


Two Wizards

by Ragman_Jack



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Iron Man - Fandom
Genre: Other, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragman_Jack/pseuds/Ragman_Jack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve Years ago, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fell and the wizarding world rose in celebration. But even as they sang his praises, young Harry Potter was spirited away, hidden from those who would seek to use him, and those who would seek to destroy him. For not everyone believed that the Dark Lord was truly gone.</p><p>Now, the time has come for Harry to claim his destiny. But even as he takes his first steps into the Magical World, the forces of Good and Evil make their plans, intent on ensnaring Harry in their webs while he can still be ensared, while he is still vunerable. It is a game of chess with the Magical World as the prize and Harry as the key. Every variable has been accounted for, every possibility has been planned out . . . except one: They forgot about Tony Stark.</p><p>And that is their first mistake . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tony and Harry

Like any good second in command, Minerva McGonagall knew when to support her superior and when to call them out.

 "Albus, you're mad." She crossed her arms and looked at the image over Albus Dumbledore's desk. "No, you're a bloody idiot. This will never work. It can't work."

 "She is related to the boy. " Tall and thin, with a beard long enough to tuck into his belt, Albus Dumbledore looked up at her from his desk. "And that is vital."

 "Distantly. Surely someone in our world . . ."

"I have already explained why he must be raised with the Muggles." Albus said gently.

He had, and despite all her misgivings, Minerva could privately admit he might even be right, but she had never been one to back down. "It's not right. What about Molly and Arthur? They'd be only too happy-"

 "They have six children, Minerva, with a seventh on the way. I cannot ask them to take him in. And Remus would never be able to keep him. No, if the Dursleys will not take Harry, this is the only choice."

 "Well yes, but she's  . . . she's . . .a  . . ."

"A Muggle?" Dumbledore asked. There was a tone in his voice that suggested that the life and career of Minerva McGonagall hung on her response.

"No, _American_." McGonagall shuddered. "For Merlin's sake, Albus, at least keep him in Britain."

"He will always be British, Minerva. However, Mark Twain -who was American -  noted that staying in one corner of the world causes one to stagnate and brews hate. I have rarely found him to be wrong."

"Oh fine, but what does she even do? Can she afford to care for the boy?"

 "Didn't you notice who she works for?"

 Minerva looked. 

 For the moment, silence reigned in the room.

 Then, "Albus, _no_."

\-------------------------------------------------

 Ten years later . . .

 Harry bolted into the house the moment Pepper opened the front door. She smiled ruefully and followed him into the house, pausing to snatch the clothes from the wall hook. Harry was ten years old, almost eleven, and seemed to have two speeds; running and climbing. 

As she approached the living room, she heard him yelling. "Hi, Jarvis! Hi, Naked Lady!" Then the sound of shoes pounding down the stairs to Tony's workshop. Rounding the corner, she saw a tall thin blonde dressed in panties and one of Tony's shirts standing near one of Jarvis' control panels. In the past, Pepper had wondered who these women were, but she'd long since stopped that. As far as she was concerned, they were all the same person and it was a miracle Tony hadn't picked up an STD. 

"Tony!' She heard Harry yell from the bottom of the stairs. There was a blast of rock music and then that cut out. 

 "So," the blonde said turning to look at her. "You must be the famous Pepper Potts."

 Pepper reassessed the blonde. Long legs with muscle tone, alert blue eyes and slim fingers with the slight callous of a typist. A journalist. And a smart one at that.

The blonde turned back to the panel and Jarvis promptly flashed a warning as she reached up to touch it. 

"That's Jarvis," Pepper explained. "He runs the house." She held up the clothes. "Your clothes have been dry cleaned and there's a car waiting outside to take you anywhere you want to go."

The blonde smiled, and Pepper saw the warning signs. This one wanted to be catty. "After all these years, he still has you picking up the laundry."

Pepper merely smiled. "My job is to do anything Mister Stark requires. Including, occasionally taking out the trash. Will that be all?"

Score.

 --------------------------------

 Tony distantly registered the sound of shoes, but it wasn't until a mess of brown hair and bright green eyes appeared in his field of vision that he'd realized that he wasn't alone in the garage anymore. 

 "Hi, Tony!' Harry shouted over the music. Jarvis lowered the volume. 

 "Hey, Mop," Tony said with a grin, ruffling Harry's hair with one greased stained hand. "Knock over any little old ladies while running around?"

 "No." Harry looked down at the engine of the Hot Rod and then at the monitor screens. "You're not going to get any more compression out of that."

 "Sure I will."

 "Nuh-uh."

 "Yes-uh," Tony shot back.

 "You're gonna have to replace the coil!" Harry called out in a sing-song voice. "You're gonna have to replace the coil, the coil!" 

 "Okay, you!" Tony snapped, rising from his stool and grabbing Harry around his waist. Harry was small for his age, though the doctor seemed to think that a growth spurt was in the wings. "That's it!" He pulled Harry off the hood of the Hot Rod. "Tickle fight!"

 Moments later, carrying a cup of coffee and a clipboard, Pepper walked into the garage, absently ordering Jarvis to turn off the music and stared as Tony stood in the middle of his workshop, Harry half draped across his shoulders and both of them laughing. 

 The sight made her flash back to her kitchen, ten years ago. After Dumbledore had given her custody of Harry, she'd called in sick to figure out what to do. Tony had shown up a few hours later to check on her.

  _"A kid, huh?" Tony sniffed. "Well, at least he's a cute little poop factory." He reached into the basket and waggled his finger in Harry's face. Harry, had stared at the finger and then grabbed it, pulling it down to his chest. "Whoa! Nice grip there."_

  _Harry burped and then went to sleep, still holding Tony's finger._

 "Hey, Aunt Pepper!" Harry called out. "Tony's gonna have to replace the compression coil!"

 "Am not!" Tony said, indignant. Harry's response was to scramble around until he was sitting on Tony's shoulders.

 "Are too!" 

 Pepper smiled and snapped a photo with her phone. Since that day in her kitchen, Tony and Harry had formed some unshakable bond. It had paid off, but Pepper had had to keep a close eye on Tony to prevent him from spoiling Harry rotten. Dumbledore had been very clear on that; When the time came, Harry was supposed to be safe, and preferably not one to give himself airs. Pepper still wasn't clear on exactly what made Harry so special, and Lieutenant Dallas, her contact with the Magical World, neither knew or cared. Apparently, the wizards of Europe and the wizards of America each refused to acknowledge that the other existed except in the most general way and on the West Coast, this refusal doubled. About all she knew was that some very bad people held Harry responsible for the death of one of their own and that somehow, the fact that they were distant cousins kept Harry safe. 

 "Harry, cartoons," Pepper ordered. Harry let out a whoop and leapt from Tony's shoulders to a table, then to another table before making it to the floor and charging upstairs. 

 "Have you considered putting him in a free running class?" Tony asked. 

 Pepper held up one finger. "Jarvis, where's Harry right now?" 

 "Mister Potter has retrieved a box of cereal from the kitchen and is presently on the couch watching Naruto." Jarvis replied. Harry, among other things, had developed a habit of popping up where he wasn't supposed to and hearing things he shouldn't. Fortunately, he could not hide from Jarvis, who had turned out to be  a fairly effective babysitter.

 "Naruto, huh? Man, that's a hilarious show." Tony pointed at Pepper. "Believe it!" Pepper gave him a death glare. "He watches it a lot?" Pepper's glare became cranked up to somewhere around fifteen. "Never mention it in your presence again?" She nodded. "You are very scary when you're in Mom mode, you know that."

 Pepper pursed her lips. "There's a million things I need to talk to you about before you leave."

 "There's no hurry. It's my plane and--"

 "The commencement speech at Madison is in three weeks and--"

 "Plenty of time."

 Pepper huffed. "And the owner of the Jackson Pollack Piece called back. He wants a final bid."

 "Is it a good representation of his spring period?" 

 Pepper bit her lip. She had long since begun to suspect that Tony's interest in modern art was either because he felt like he had to, or to mess with her. The first one was a sign of deeper problems, the second made her fingers twitch into claws because she was already dealing with one child as it was. "He didn't really have one, he--" Tony looked at her and she sighed. "I think it's a fair representation, yes."

 "I need it," he replied flatly. "Buy it, ship it, store it." He picked up a rag and began wiping off his hands. "So . . . Harry leaves for that school . . . when?" 

 "A couple of more months," Pepper replied. After Harry had set all of Tony's curtains on fire at once during a tantrum, Pepper hadn't seen any choice but to let Tony in on Harry's unique nature and why she was caring for him. Thankfully, aside from spending the next year or so building a variety of scanning devices and waving them in Harry's direction, Tony had continued to treat Harry as he'd always had. "September First."

 "How's he gonna get there? I mean, it's England. Or is there some kind of secret magic portal thingy?"

 "Tony, I have no idea. I'm lucky if I can pry the time of day out of Dallas, much less any information about the Wizarding World."

 "Then why the hell is she helping?"

 Pepper sighed. "I've told you Tony, she's someone to call if something goes wrong and she owes Dumbledore a favor, which is the only reason she's helping in the first place. Beyond that, she couldn't care less if every Muggle in Los Angeles dropped dead."

 "Have you told him the truth yet?"

 Pepper winced. She hadn't told Harry the truth about his abilities or what had really happened to his parents. She hadn't lied per say, but as far as Harry knew, his parents were dead and Pepper was taking care of him. As for his abilities, she'd told him that Harry was special, but he should try to control them to keep other people from getting hurt. Ironically, perhaps, Tony had been telling her for years to tell Harry everything and let the chips fall where they may, an idea she'd been opposing since Harry was still young. That, and Dumbledore hadn't really told her that much to begin with. "No. I mean, I know I need too, it's just, with everything, I don't have the words to explain something I don't even understand."

 "So? Tell him that. He's not a dumb kid, Pepper."

 "Yeah . . . I mean . . . no, you're right. I'll do it when you get back."

 "Why wait? And why me?"

 "Because . . . I need you to be there . . . okay?" 

 Tony locked eyes with Pepper and in that moment, he saw a thousand different possibilities stretching out between them, a thousand different ways this conversation could go. "Okay, when I get back. And when the time comes, we'll take the jet. Jarvis, log that in. Reserve the jet for August Thirty-First, -no- make that the Twenty-Ninth, to London."

 "Done, sir. May I inquire how long you plan to stay?"

 "Just until September 2nd, Jarvis," Pepper said. "The usual accommodations." 

 "Of course, Ma'am."

 "And you," Pepper said to Tony, "have a plane to catch."

 ----------------------------------------

 Harry woke up to see Aunt Pepper standing in the doorway of his room. Seeing he was awake, she turned on his bedside lamp and sat on the bed. 

 "Aunt Pepper? What's wrong?" Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes and fumbled for his glasses.

 "Harry, it's . . . Colonel Rhodes called. Tony showed off his missile, but on the way back, they were . .. attacked. Tony is . . .  he's missing, Harry."

 Harry's eyes widened. "Missing?"

 "Colonel Rhodes is searching for him," Pepper soothed, sitting down on his bed. "And he won't stop until he's looked under every single rock, tree and every where else in the whole wide world. We'll find him, Harry." She pulled him close and he wrapped his arms around her. "We'll find him."

 ------------------------------------------

 Tony shook the can and then emptied it over the board.

 "Nice move," Yinsen said approvingly. 

 "Like I said," Tony replied smugly. "Three time Backgammon champ at MIT." Yinsen chuckled and Tony eyed him. Yinsen had saved his life, and Tony had elected to enlist him with the escape plan, but he didn't really know the guy. "So, you got a family?"

 "Yes, and I will see them when I leave here. And you, Stark?"

 "No."

 "So you're a man with everything . . . and yet nothing."

 Tony gave him a look and then a picture of Harry flashed into his mind. "Well, there's this kid. My assistant's kid. I do the dad thing here and there."

 "I see." Yinsen nodded. "Then this isn't just an important week for you, Stark, but for him as well." He shook the can and emptied the dice onto the board.

 Tony had a small smile on his face. Not him, but Harry. Yinsen was right. He had to get out of here. For Harry.

 God help anyone who got in his way.


	2. Chapter 2

Pepper Potts walked into her kitchen the morning of Harry's Birthday and stopped. There was a man standing there, calmly studying her collection of fine china teacups from around the world. At the table, Harry chatted away in between mouthfuls of cereal.

"Hello, Ms Potts," he said, turning to face her. He was extremely thin, borderline emaciated, with a heavily scarred face and soft brown eyes. His hair was combed and he bore a heavy mustache. His clothes were well cared for, but old.

"Hello," Pepper replied, sliding her hands into the pockets of her robe.

"Ah, before you summon Lieutenant Dallas, my name is Remus Lupin. Professor Dumbledore sent me." Pepper did not take her hands out of her pockets. He smiled. "He told me to remind you that the last time you saw him, it was the red cup from Scotland that he turned into a blue gray bird to prove that he was indeed, a wizard."

Pepper took her hands from her pockets. "Of course, forgive me for being cautious."

"Not at all. I would expect nothing less."

"Mr. Lupin says I'm a wizard, Aunt Pepper!" Harry called out. He picked up a letter from the table and waved it at her. "I'm a wizard! Like Gandalf! He just appeared out of thin air. Bang!"

Pepper poured herself a cup of coffee, still slightly wary. "You'll forgive me, Mr. Lupin, but it's 5am, can I ask what you're doing in my kitchen?"

"A miscalculation on my part," Remus admitted. "In England it's early afternoon and I was slightly excited to see Harry again. His father and I were friends at Hogwarts, you see and I was there when he was born."

Pepper nodded. "Um, if you were that close, then why . . ."

"I have a medical condition." Lupin's lips twisted upwards in a sardonic smile. "Not practical for raising a child."

"I suppose not," Pepper agreed.

"He brought me a letter!" Harry spoke up again. "It says I'm going to wizard school!" He waved it at her. "Wizard school, Aunt Pepper!" Pepper reached over and took the letter. "I'm going to wizard school, and then I'll find Tony, and zap the bad guys, and then turn them into bugs, and then step on the bugs . . ." Harry continued on in this vein as Pepper read. The letter was handwritten in emerald green ink and looked like a standard welcome form letter. The second page was a list of supplies including a cauldron, books, uniform requirements, and other things.

"It's not as expensive as it looks," Lupin told her, "and James and Lily planned ahead in case something happened to them."

Pepper nodded. "I don't think you came all the way from England to deliver mail, though."

Lupin chuckled. "No. As you can see by the letter, Harry will need things for Hogwarts. I'm here to take him shopping." Lupin smiled. "Ever been to the Wizarding World?"

\---------------------------------

Pepper had always liked London, or at least the little of the city she'd seen that hadn't been from a car or while dragging Tony out of whatever nightclub he'd gotten smashed in. After traveling from L.A. to London involving something called a "portkey" they'd taken a taxi into the heart of London and had been walking for the past few minutes.

"Ah, Miss Potts, I'm afraid I have to ask for a bit of trust." Lupin's hand closed around her elbow. "Close your eyes, please." Pepper considered pointing out that she had given him plenty of trust already, but nodded and closed her eyes. "Turn to your right," he murmured. "There's two steps coming up in three two one . . ." Pepper felt herself being guided up steps and through an opened door. "There."

Pepper opened her eyes and found herself inside a low ceilinged tavern. A set of stairs ran up the back wall and the room was filled with people in strange clothing. Pepper noticed with amusement that one wizard was reading Hawking while calmly stirring a cup of tea by waving his finger at the spoon.

"Is everyone here a wizard?" Harry asked.

"Witches and Wizards, Harry," Lupin corrected. "Neither better than the other."

Pepper nodded agreement and then stepped back reflexively as the largest man she'd ever seen suddenly moved and turned to them. The man had to be well over seven feet tall, maybe eight, with a massive beard, a mane of tangled hair, and beetle black eyes.

"Lupin!" he cried out. "Good to see yeh! Care for a drink?"

"Hello, Hagrid," Lupin said mildly. "No time for that, I'm afraid. You remember Harry, I assume."

"'Course I do," Hagrid replied. "Hullo, Harry, been years since I saw yeh!" He leaned over and shook Harry's hand.

"Bless my soul!' The barman cried out, leaning over the bar. "It's Harry Potter!"

Sudden silence slammed over the room as everyone turned to them.

"Oh dear," Remus murmured. "I forgot about this."

Pepper opened her mouth to ask and then everyone was pressing forward to shake Harry's hand and say how pleased they were to meet him. Harry wasn't the most outgoing of children and Pepper had taught him to be wary of strangers wanting to be his friend; a consequence of being close to Tony Stark. Pretty soon he was pressed against her and the people were still coming.

"Hagrid . . ." Lupin said in a strangled voice.

"Right then," Hagrid bellowed, waving his arms, "clear off ya lot! Give the boy room, there you go." The crowed dispersed, regrouping at the tables to whisper to each other and stare in their direction.

"Thanks, Hagrid," Lupin said. "All right there, Harry?" Harry nodded. "Good lad. Let's keep going."

"I'll head out with ya, Lupin." Hagrid drained a mug as big as Harry's head and set a coin on the bar.

Lupin nodded and they walked through the room and into a small courtyard.

"Mr. Lupin, who were all those people? How come they know my name?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure Lupin's the one to ask, Harry," Hagrid said, "me either for that matter." He removed a shockingly pink umbrella from an inside pocket of his coat and began to tap bricks on the back wall counting under his breath. Pepper started to demand answers anyway when the bricks began to move, rotating and flipping away as they ground and rearranged themselves into a doorway. "Welcome to Diagon Alley!"

Pepper and Harry stepped through at a nudge from Lupin and Pepper gasped, all questions banished from her mind. Before them stretched a long street lined with houses on either side. People were everywhere and a gentle nudge from Lupin set her walking. Around them, she saw costumes, some almost modern, others that looked like they had been taken from a hundred years ago or more in a riot of colors. Around them, snatches of conversation reached their ears; a woman complaining that seven sickles an ounce was mad, a complaint about fudge, something about cannons and a cup. It was insane.

"And now you see why we call it the Wizarding World," Remus said dryly.

"I honestly had no idea," Pepper replied, her attention drawn to a group of children, their noses pressed against the window, staring at a broomstick. "Is that . . ."

"It is, and we do, but mostly for Quidditch these days."

"Quidditch?"

Remus chuckled. "Once the school year starts, you should come see a game. It's very exciting."

Pepper struggled to get her brain in gear. "School . . .. Harry's supplies . . . do they take credit cards? I mean . . ."

"I told you Harry's parents planned ahead," Remus told her and pointed. "And so, that is our first stop." Ahead of them rose a large imposing building with the word "Gringotts" in vertical letters.

"Aye," Hagrid added. "Gringotts, ain't no place safer. 'Cept maybe Hogwarts."

The inside of Gringotts was just as imposing as the outside, if not moreso. High ceilings with a definite Venetian influence soared high overhead atop greco-roman columns as strange little creatures with long noses and pointed ears sorted gems and coins under the light of french stained glass lanterns. Everywhere was candles. Candles in the lanterns, candles in the wrought iron germanic chandlers, candles everywhere and not a whiff of smoke.

"Magic candles," Lupin said. "No smoke, no scent, plenty of light."

"And what are those . . .?" Pepper asked eyeing the creatures.

"Goblins," Hagrid replied. "Clever as they come, Goblins, but not the friendliest of beasts."

"Oh," Pepper said in a weak voice. "Goblins. Of course. Goblins." A nervous laugh escaped her and she suddenly wished for Tony to be there and make some smart ass remark because she could really use her best friend right about now.

"Steady, Potts," Lupin murmured in her ear as they approached the podium at the far end of the room. "Steady." Pepper nodded, although she didn't feel steady at all.

"Yes?" asked the Goblin at the podium.

"Mr. Harry Potter wishes to make a withdrawal," Lupin declared, passing over a golden key.

"There's also this," Hagrid added, handing over an envelope. "It's about the you-know-what in vault . . . you-know-which."

The Goblin studied the letter and then nodded, handing back the key. "GRIPHOOK!" he bellowed, ringing a bell.

\-----------------------------------------------

Pepper hadn't been sure what she was expecting, but a roller coaster like ride deep underground through a vast series of caves was not on the list. Harry loved it though, whooping and hollering as the car they sat in sailed around turns and at one point, she thought she saw a flash of fire down a side tunnel.

Finally, as gentle as you pleased, the car came to a smooth stop along a corridor of polished rocks. Set into the rock walls were vault doors, each one bearing numbers.

"Key, please," Griphook said, taking it from Lupin and unlocking the vault, the door swinging open of its own accord. Inside were mountains of coins. Gold, silver, and bronze glistened in the lantern light, and Pepper gasped. She had never seen so much precious metal.

"Duck Tales!" Harry yelled, charging forward.

"Harry, no!" Pepper shouted and watched as the boy launched himself into the air, arms forward in the perfect diving position and crashed into the coins. "Sorry," she gasped out to Griphook as she moved forward to help Harry up.

Griphook shrugged. "Not the first time."

"Uncle Scrooge did it," Harry explained to Pepper.

"Harry, we've talked about this. Uncle Scrooge is a cartoon character, and cartoon characters can do things we can't."

"But I'm a wizard now."

"Wizards aren't truly wizards until they've finished school," Lupin supplied, saving Pepper from having to come up with a reason as to why being a wizard didn't mean you could swim in money.

"Lupin's right, Harry," Hagrid put in. "Yer gonna learn loads of useful stuff at Hogwarts and you'll be under the finest headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen; Albus Dumbledore." He nodded. "Great man, Dumbledore."

The worshipful look on Hagrid's face and the tone in his voice told Pepper that telling Hagrid what she thought of Albus Dumbledore would, at best, fall on deaf ears.

"Here now," Hagrid continued, taking a leather pouch from Lupin and filling it up with a few handfuls of coins. "This should do fer a couple o'terms." He handed the pouch to Harry, Lupin tossed a few coins that had rolled out back in and shut the door. Pepper took the pouch from Harry and tucked it into her purse.

"So what about the you-know-what?" Harry asked.

"The we-know-what what?" Pepper asked and then blinked. Had she really said that?

"Hagrid had a letter," Harry patiently explained. "He told the Goblin guy that it was about the you-know-what in vault you-know-which and I don't-know-what or which-vault-which."

"Secret Hogwarts business, that," Hagrid explained, puffing himself up. "Dumbledore trusts me with stuff, you see. Important missions and all that. Great man, Dumbledore."

"This way," Griphook pronounced and led them off down the corridor.

"And this is normal?" Pepper asked as Remus fell into step next to her. "The Wizarding World seems to be chaos incarnate."

"I suppose it does look that way to an outsider," Lupin conceded. "I promise that you're not the first to feel as though they've fallen down the rabbit hole, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, just . . . so much to take in." Pepper sighed. "I know how to exchange pleasantries in ten different languages, who to bribe in twenty different countries and plan a menu for everything from an intimate luncheon for two to a seven star, twelve course meal for royalty plus entertainment." She spread her hands. "But this? I have nothing to work with."

"Did you have anything to work with in those ten languages? Or determining who to bribe?" Remus asked. "You had to start somewhere."

Pepper blinked at him and then looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Lupin was right, she decided as the world which had felt like it was lurching around her from the moment they'd stepped through into Diagon Alley suddenly steadied into something she understood; she hadn't fallen down the rabbit hole, she was just somewhere new and there was groundwork to be done. Thanks," she whispered.

"You're welcome," Lupin replied and then looked ahead of them, where Harry and Griphook were attempting to keep up with Hagrid's large strides. "I should probably bring this up later instead of now, but I suspect you might not bear the warmest feelings for Albus Dumbledore."

"You could say that," Pepper agreed. "Don't get me wrong, I love Harry and I'd do it again, but Dumbledore could have been a little more forthcoming"

Lupin nodded. "We could probably have a nice long conversation about it, but my point is that it would be unwise to speak ill of Albus Dumbledore around Hagrid."

"I guessed as much, but why?"

"As I understand it, Hagrid was a student at Hogwarts until he was expelled. Dumbledore then got him a job as Assistant Groundskeeper for Hogwarts. Later, he was promoted to Groundskeeper when his predecessor retired. He's been there ever since."

"Why was he expelled?"

"Lupin shrugged. "We never found out."

"We?"

Lupin smiled sadly. "I suppose I'll have to tell it sooner or later."

"You don't have to," Pepper told him. "I understand if it's painful."

"No, no. I mean, it is, but you should know." Remus inhaled, and looked at the floor before raising his eyes to hers. "Harry's father and I were in the same year and the same house at Hogwarts. Also in our year were two others. Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. Oh, the adventures we had, the things we did! We were close, but James, Harry's father, and Black were the closest. He was named Harry's Godfather, in fact."

"So why didn't Harry go to him?"

"He's in prison for Peter's murder and he was the one who told . . . him, where to find Harry and his parents." Rage was all over Lupin's face and reminded Pepper less of a man and more of a wolf. "I don't know if blood won out, or if he just went mad, but the only friends I've ever had in this world are dead because of Sirius bloody Black."

There were more questions than answers now, but Pepper knew that now was the wrong time to ask, so instead she simply laid a hand on Lupin's shoulder in comfort.

"Thank you," Lupin murmured and then he straightened up as ahead, Griphook stopped at a vault labeled 713. Reaching out, the Goblin began to draw a single line down the center of the door with one finger. "If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried this, they'd be sucked in and stuck there until we came to check," Griphook explained.

"How long does that take?" Harry asked.

Griphook smiled nastily as the sound of the vault unlocking filled the corridor. "About ten years or so."

Harry swallowed and backed up against Pepper, who put her arm around his shoulders and backed away from the vault door a few more steps. Just in case.

With a final clank, the door swung open and both Pepper and Harry craned their heads to see around Hagrid's bulk as the giant man stepped forward and picked up a small parcel from the vault floor. There was nothing else in the room. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this," Hagrid said, tucking the parcel into an inside coat pocket. "Secret business and all that."

\----------------------------

"So, Lupin," Hagrid said when they emerged from Gringotts and back out into Diagon Alley, "Yer all here to shop for Harry's Hogwarts things, eh?"

"Quite," Lupin said, "which brings up an important point." Lupin dug in his pocket for a moment and then crouched down in front of Harry. In his hand were three coins. One bronze, one silver, one gold. "Harry, this is wizarding money. The bronze one is a Knut, the silver one is a Sickle, and the gold one is a Galleon."

"Knut, Sickle, Galleon," Harry repeated, pointing at each coin.

"Good. Now, it take seventeen Knuts to make a Sickle, and twenty-nine Sickles to make a Galleon. Got that?"

"I think so," Harry said. "It's like pennies, dimes, and nickels back home, right?"

"Right, Harry," Pepper said and ruffled his hair. "So then," she pulled the list from her purse and looked at it. "Uniform and Robes first?"

\------------------------------

Pepper was no stranger to marathon shopping, but the amount of things a first year student wizard needed was phenomenal. Robes, cauldron, scales and other things which Hagrid referred to as "bits and bobs", and then there were the books.

Dear god, _the books_.

Flourish and Blotts was a bibliophile's fantasy come true. Shelves groaned (which made her jump the first time she heard them do it) under the weight of all the books, and while Harry's actual book list was fairly short, there were so many others and Pepper had encouraged Harry's love of reading, which she was now regretting. Sort of. Pepper was an avid reader herself, at least when she had the time, and there was so much she didn't know.

She also got some books for Tony, all technical manuals and a book written in the fifties by a pair of muggleborn wizards turned scientists who had sought to apply the scientific method to magic and how it fit into the laws of physics. Not to mention, Tony would have questions. Lots of questions. Questions she wouldn't be able to answer.

Hagrid, having retrieved the whatever-it-was seemed to be content to help them with their shopping by carrying packages while Lupin took the role of guide. Instinctively, perhaps, Lupin steered them towards the second hand shops, and Pepper was glad. While it was obvious that Harry's parents had left him a fortune, Pepper considered it her obligation to stretch that fortune out. Harry, fortunately, shared Pepper's love of antique and thrift stores, so he thought the slightly battered scales, cauldron, and other tools in their bags were awesome and he couldn't wait to try them out.

"So," Harry muttered as he crossed yet another item off the list. "I still need . . . a wand."

"Oh you want Ollivander's fer that," Hagrid told him, pointing at a shop, whose sign proclaimed it had been established 382 BC, which suggested a lot of things that Pepper didn't want to think about. "Why don't you lot head in there. I got one more thing t' do, won't be long." Before anyone could say anything, Hagrid was gone.

The inside of Ollivander's seemed to be nothing but shelves filled to overloading with long flat boxes. The only open space was a small waiting area and the area behind the counter.

"Hello?" Harry called out.

There was the sound of metal on metal and then from somewhere in the shelves, a man slid into view on a ladder. :"I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr Potter," he said, smiling. He hopped off the ladder and selected a box from the shelf. "It seems as though only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands." He walked right up to Harry and opened the box. Inside was a long thin stick which Harry took out and looked at it, then at Ollivander.

"Give it a wave," Lupin said. Harry nodded, flicked the wand and a vase on the counter exploded.

"Evidentially not," Ollivander sighed, taking the wand back. "No matter."

Over the next hour, wand after wand was tried and the shop got messier and messier as the pile of wand boxes grew higher. Ollivander's only response was to get more and more thoughtful. "I wonder," he said at last and vanished into the depths of the shelves only to return moments later. The wand inside didn't look any different than the others but when Harry waved it, the wand glowed and a soft wind seemed to blow through the room. "Curious," Ollivander mused, "very curious."

"Sorry," Harry said, carefully replacing the wand in it's box. "But, what's curious?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather, just one other. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand . . _when its brother gave you that scar_."

Pepper swallowed a gasp. Harry's scar. The lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. When Harry had come to her, it had been fresh and raw, but over the years had healed to a single line. Pepper had gotten used to it and had barely given it a second thought. Harry occasionally got self conscious about it, smoothing his hair down to hide it, but for the most part, it was just there and they both ignored it.

"And who owned that wand?" Harry asked.

Ollivander stared at him for a moment. "We do not speak his name," he said gravely. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Potter, it's not always clear why. But, I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes . . . but great."

When they were outside, Harry looked at the box holding his wand. "Aunt Pepper?"

"Yes?"

"I don't think I like Mr. Ollivander very much."

"You're not alone, Harry," Lupin told him. "I feel the same way. Many do" He looked over his shoulder at the door. "He's very good though. Ollivander wands are considered the best for a reason."

"Harry!" Hagrid bellowed. The giant man was holding a bird cage, inside which was an owl. "Happy Birthday!"

\-------------------------------------

"An owl," Pepper said, staring at the cage. "An owl?" They had returned to the pub, which Pepper had learned was called "The Leaky Cauldron" for a late lunch.

"Oh they're dead useful," Hagrid assured her. "Carry your mail and everything."

"Wizarding mail is carried by owls?" Pepper asked, incredulous. "Owls aren't that smart."

"Ordinary owls, yes," Lupin agreed, "however, owls in the wizarding world have been exposed to magic for generations, more than a thousand years, in fact. They've . . . changed."

"Hedwig," Harry said, looking up from a book. "Her name is Hedwig after Lady Hedwig of . . . of . . ."

Lupin leaned over Harry's shoulder. "Blaidd Drwg Moor. Ah yes. She was a very famous witch. Helped found Saint Mungos and codified the requirements for healers. In fact, she was Hogwart's first Headmistress. Excellent choice, Harry."

Harry beamed.

"Eat, Harry," Pepper said. Harry nodded and set the book aside before taking a great big spoonful of stew, but after a few bites, he sighed and began poking at it. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"All those people who know my name. My scar . . . the one who gave it to me. He killed my parents, didn't he? Why?" Harry looked straight at Pepper. "Why does this scar make me famous? Who was he?"

Lupin and Pepper looked at each other. Lupin seemed to be silently asking her permission to say something, but before she could nod, Hagrid sighed set his spoon down. "First, understand this, Harry, because it's very important. Not all wizards are good. Some go bad. Now, a few years ago, one of them went as bad as you can go. Yer parents were among those who fought him. But , You-Know-Who was powerful, and he was gathering followers. Nobody lived once he decided to kill them."

"But I did, didn't I?" Harry asked.

Hagrid nodded. "That's no ordinary cut on your forehead, Harry. That's the mark of a curse, and an evil curse at that. Somethin' 'bout you stumped him that night and that's why you're famous. That's why everyone knows your name. You"re the Boy Who Lived."

"But who was he? Is he dead?" Harry asked. He looked back and forth between Hagrid and Lupin. "What was his name?"

"Voldemort," Lupin said quietly. "His name was Voldemort and yes, Harry, he's dead."

"Codswallop," Hagrid snorted. "He's out there somewhere, I reckon. Too tired to carry on."

Pepper nodded. She wasn't a vengeful person, but if given the choice between Voldemort being tired and Voldemort being dead, she preferred dead.

\---------------------------------------

"One thing I don't understand," Pepper said as they exited the Leaky Cauldron. Dusk was beginning to settle over London and the city lamps were turning on. Ahead of them, Harry walked, hands in his pockets, head down, clear signs that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. "If this Voldemort was so powerful, how could Harry have lived? He was only a baby." She took out her phone and texted a message to Jarvis that he was to expect a large trunk and a snowy white owl in a cage. Lupin had helped her make arrangements to have Harry's school supplies delivered to Tony's house, where they would be more secure.

"That's the mystery," Lupin told her. "Avada Kedavra kills. Instantly. No armor will protect you, no spell will deflect it. To use it on a human being is forbidden and will net you a fate worse than death. A flash of green light, and that's it. You or someone you love is gone. So to find out that anyone, especially a baby survived, and destroyed a living nightmare in the process, well, so much the better. By the time anyone thought to ask questions, Dumbledore had already hidden Harry away."

"Green light . . ." Pepper mused. "Green light . . .Oh god!"

"What?"

"When Harry was younger, he kept having this nightmare and would wake up screaming. All he could tell me was that there was a green light." She shook her head. "I spent hours talking to psychiatrists trying to figure out its meaning." She sighed. "At least the flying motorcycle one was easy to figure out. Harry loves flying."

"I'm told that Harry was taken from the house by Hagrid on a flying motorcycle, actually." Lupin smiled. "Anything else?"

"Dancing pickles?"

"I wouldn't have put it past James to make food dance, but I'm pretty sure that's all Harry."

Pepper nodded and flagged down a cab.

\-------------------

At the Portkey site, Pepper took out a piece of paper, scribbled on it, and then handed it to Lupin.

"Cultural consultant," Lupin read out loud and Pepper hid a smile as she watched his eyes widen when he got to the salary. "I . . . what's this?"

"That, Mr. Lupin, is a job offer." Pepper clarified. Lupin blinked at her. "You said I needed to start somewhere, well, this is somewhere and I promise you, you'll earn every penny of that salary if not now, then when Mr. Stark returns."

Ah . . ." Lupin stared, stunned. "Um . . my condition . . . "

"Stark Industries has a top rated benefits plan," Pepper replied. "Whatever it is, Mr, Lupin, I'm sure we can handle it." Lupin blinked. He'd forgotten how blithe Muggles and Muggleborns could be about the Magical World. "My office at Stark Industries L.A. on Monday, Nine O'Clock sharp." With that, she and Harry touched the Portkey and were gone.

"You'd best get going there, Mate" The portkey wizard advised, making Lupin jump as he'd forgotten the man was there. "Sounds like you've got some packing to do."

"I never even said yes," Lupin protested.

"I don't know what's on that paper," the wizard advised, checking a pocket watch, "but any number what puts that expression on a man's face is one to chase. The salary too."

Lupin gave the wizard a look. "Why does everyone think I'm going?"

"Mate, I've been doing this job fer fifty years and nine marriages. You learn a thing or two in that time. Last I saw that look on a man's face, he wound up splinching himself chasin' her. Said it was worth it as they pieced him back together, right about where you're standing."

Remus stood there for a moment, and then looked back down at the slip of paper in his hand. "You wouldn't happen to know what the weather in Los Angeles is like, would you?"

\---------------------------------------

Remus had heard the name Stark, of course. Anyone who did any research into the myths of the Norse Gods came across the name. The Muggles had classified the entire Tesseract incident of World War 2, but in Wizarding Academic circles, the cube and the study of it were in multiple books and Remus had read all of them. If there was an upside to being a werewolf, it was that the time spent as a human during the full moon left one a lot of time for reading.

However, nothing had presented him for the reality of Stark. Or Wizarding America, for that matter. In England, a wizard wanting to work in the Muggle world would have been met with skepticism, or derision and a werewolf would have been outright denied. In America, he'd simply had to fill out a few forms (Americans did seem to love their forms) and pay a simple fee. That he was a werewolf had required him to sign another form, this one certifying that he understood that he alone was responsible for isolating himself in a secure location during the full moon and maintaining it. Failure to so was punishable by death and the burden of proof was on him.

Strangely, Remus was more comfortable with that than he should be.

Still, he felt slightly nervous as he walked up to the front doors of Stark Industries. His papers for his Muggle Identity were neatly packed into a battered leather briefcase that had been a gift from his father upon his Hogwarts graduation. His remaining possessions had been shrunk and were sitting in a valise that was in a rentable locker in Wizarding Los Angeles. His small, meager savings had been emptied to pay for the trip over and the fees, so the two sickles in his pocket were all he had.

He had been expecting some trouble given his appearance, but aside from a curled lip of disdain from the security guard, his name had gotten him a visitor's badge, and within moments, he was being escorted to Potts' office by a perky brunette who upon hearing his accent had proceeded to regal him with how much she knew about England because she watched Doctor Who.

Thankfully, by half past nine, Remus was ensconced in a small room, filling out forms. Payroll, emergency contacts (not that he really had any) and confidentiality forms among others.

"I'm sorry, Mr, Lupin," Potts told him at ten as she came in, setting a cup of coffee on the table at his elbow. "I know this is a lot of work."

"Oh, I don't mind," Lupin said, setting his pen down and flexing his fingers. "I'm fine with hard work, was raised to it, really." He sipped the coffee. "My father always said that if you don't feel like you've earned your money, something's wrong. And please, Remus is fine."

Pepper smiled at that. "Then you must call me Pepper."

"As you wish," Remus agreed.

For a moment, they sat there in companionable silence and then Pepper spoke again. "Remus, what can you tell me about Harry's family? His parents?"

"Ah," Remus leaned back in his chair. "Well, they met at school James was very wild, rambunctious up through sixth year, when he changed and began to mellow out. Lily's handiwork, that. She was very pleasant, kind, caring, and would never hurt a fly . . . until the fly made her mad." Remus took another sip of coffee as Pepper chuckled. "The Potter family itself has no titles or anything that I ever heard about, but they're an old family. Aside from a few very distant cousins, myself included, actually, Harry is the last one left. And as for Lily's family . . ." Remus smiled that twisted, sardonic smile. "Best left for another time."

"I see," Pepper murmured. "There's, it's just, I've been in a vacuum all these years and now, I have so many questions, and I don't even know if they're the right questions."

"I've never held with the right and wrong question idea," Remus replied. "Best way to learn something is to ask a question." He smiled. "The people who claim that there's bad questions and wrong questions are people who either can't teach or expect everyone is as smart as they are."

Pepper nodded, glanced at her watch, and rose. "I'd better let you get back to work. There's still a few things left to do before you're completely on the payroll and I have lots of questions still."

Remus nodded and picked up his pen again.

\--------------------

The few things Pepper mentioned turned out to be a presentation involving the history of Stark Industries, a rather laughable lecture entitled "Helping Stark Industries help you", and a mercifully short training session on emergency procedures. After that, his photo was taken and put on an ID badge before he returned to Pepper's office just as she was packing up her bag.

"Ah, you survived," Pepper said with a smile.

"I've been through worse," Remus replied, thinking of Professor Binns' class.

Pepper nodded and shouldered her purse and work bag. "I have to pick up Harry from summer camp, so let's do that, and then go to the house and get you set up there."

Remus smiled. "You're the boss." He flicked his ID badge, which got her to grin.

Always the gentleman, he opened the door as they left and they ambled out into the hall, talking quietly.

"Pepper!" came the call from a side hallway and they looked to see a man in a suit striding towards them. He was bald as an egg save for the massive beard that reminded Remus of a an animated hedge. Under the suit, he had the large broad shouldered build that came from muscle and bone strung together with rope-like tendon. Unconsciously, Remus tensed. This man was dangerous.

"Obie!" Pepper greeted him. "How are you?"

"Eh, Trask industries again." Obie gave Remus a questioning look and Remus felt his old Marauder instincts kick in.

"Ah!" Pepper said. "Remus, this is Obediah Stane, Stark Industries CFO. Obie, this is Remus Lupin, he just finished his new hire paperwork."

"Welcome to the Stark Industries family," Stane grinned and shook Remus' hand. Remus had to give the man his due; the fake smile even showed his in his eyes. "What do you do?"

"I'm Librarian and an archivist," Remus lied. Well, half-lied, he did have the training. "Mr. Stark's filing system is less than optimal and Ms. Potts wanted me to straighten it out."

"Less than optimal," Stane snorted. "That's a good one. You Brits, always with the understatement."

"Well not to be cliche," Remus replied drily, "but stiff upper lip and all that does have some basis in reality."

Surprisingly, Stane actually found that funny and he clapped Remus on the shoulder. "I think you'll fit in just fine here, Lupin." He turned to Pepper. "Pepper, I need the C A Oh Two paperwork."

"What? Obie, there's no proof--"

"There's nothing that says he's alive either. We're coming up on the three month mark, Pepper. I don't like it any more than you do, but we have to face facts; Tony may be gone for good." Remus controlled a shudder. Stane was . . . hungry, that was the best term Remus could think of. "We have to at least have the forms in hand. If the board decides to declare Tony . . . that's their right." Remus was almost positive that that right was something Stane would have put in their heads, which in turn led to a number of speculations that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

"I'm not . . . I would just rather wait until the three month mark," Pepper replied. "You know how Tony is with showing up last minute."

It was then that Remus saw it, the flash of sheer ambition that was the real Stane showing through mixed with frustration and rage before the mask slammed back down. "No one wants to see Tony alive more than me, Pepper," Stane said soothingly, and again, Remus had to give Stane his due. The man could have given Sirius and James lessons in lying with a straight face. "But we have to be pragmatic; The stockholders are twitchy enough as it is -hell, so is the board, and if Tony is truly gone, then we have to be prepared."

Pepper heaved a sigh. "I know, Obie, I know. Next monday, okay? Next monday, first thing."

Stane nodded. "Next monday." He nodded once and Pepper took that as a dismissal and she and Remus walked away, Remus feeling Stane's eyes boring into his back until they reached a corner. Risking a look back, Remus could see Stane was gone, but it wasn't until they were off Stark Industries property that Remus felt he could relax.

Dumbledore was behind this. Remus couldn't explain how, but he knew that Dumbledore had sent him to pick up Harry just so Remus would get hired at Stark Industries, because Pepper and Harry needed protection and of course Remus would accept the offer and how Tony Stark fit into it all when he'd gone missing well before Harry's birthday and was probably dead, Remus didn't know. But Dumbledore had set it all up. He was sure of it.

It was times like now that Remus really, really hated Albus Dumbledore.

\------------------------------------

Three days after Harry left for Hogwarts, Tony returned.

Of course he did.


	3. Chapter 3

Normally, Albus Dumbledore avoided the clock tower hallway Granted, it was a shortcut from his office to the corridor that ran behind the Great Hall, but the normal route gave him time to marshal his thoughts and there were so many swirling in his head that not even the Pensive had enabled him to fully sort out and that was a rare thing indeed. In fact, he’d spent so much time with the Pensive tonight that if he didn’t take the shortcut, he would be late and that simply would not do. 

Still, he wished he’d had more time. Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts, and Dumbledore could see the hard road the boy had ahead of him. Too much was on those shoulders and he could already see the hounds circling, looking for their pound of flesh. All that and the threat of Voldemort hanging over them all. Not for the first time, Dumbledore cursed his own ego. He’d been so sure of his ability to mentor Riddle, so sure of his . . . no, he would be honest with himself. In Riddle he’d seen his failure to recognize Gellert for who and what he was until it had been too late, and he’d thought to redeem that hubris with Riddle. 

Which was, unfortunately, also hubris. Ah! The irony!

Shaking his head, Dumbledore continued on his way when he happened to glance at the clock room and saw a figure standing at the glass, staring out over the lake. 

“Severus,” Dumbledore said, moving to stand next to the man. 

“Headmaster,” Severus Snape replied in that deep, level voice that had cowed many an unruly student. He was one of those men who could fill a room with his presence, somehow looming even though he was not that tall. He had a hooklike nose, hair that fell to his shoulders and eyes that never seemed to open more than halfway.

Below in the water, Dumbledore could see a group of lights beginning to move across the water from the far side. 

“He’s down there,” Snape said. Dumbledore didn’t have to ask who Snape was talking about. “Her son . . .” Snape murmured softly and Dumbledore’s head jerked up sharply to look at the other man. 

“Severus?”

“Lily’s son.” One lip curled in disgust. “Potter.”

A number of oaths rushed through Dumbledore’s mind. Since that night when Snape had come to him, seeking absolution, Dumbledore had accepted the man’s loner tendencies, granting him the solitude that Snape preferred and confining their conversations to Order or school business. That, it seemed, had been a mistake. Still, he was glad now that he had taken the shortcut; this mistake, at least, he had a chance to correct before it was too late.

“Severus!” He snapped, his voice sharp enough to fully catch the other man’s attention. “Do not confuse him with James, Severus, he’s Harry, and must be judged as such.”

“I have every intention of doing so, Headmaster,” Snape replied, and his tone of voice set off nearly every alarm bell Dumbledore had. 

“I should hope so, Severus,” Dumbledore replied, and in Snape’s eyes. fifty years seemed to fall away from Dumbledore in an instant, and suddenly, he was a young boy again. “Your feelings for Lilly Potter turned you from Voldemort. The fact that you loved her - that you have the capacity to love- was one of the reasons I have entrusted you with teaching the children here and even allowed you to lead them as a Head of House.” Dumbledore made a mental note to speak with Snape further on how the man defined love. “I would hate to think you allowed your prejudices to influence how you treat the children.”

His ice blue eyes held Snape’s own for moments that seemed like hours and it was Snape who blinked first and looked away.

“ . . . yes, Headmaster.”

Dumbledore laid his hand on Snape’s shoulder. “He is not James, Severus. He is not James. Nor is he Sirius Black. He is Harry and he cannot pay for the sins of his fathers.”

Snape turned back to the glass. The lights of the boats were nearly halfway across the lake now. “He is not ready. None of them are, and Potter is as a Muggle. He knows nothing and he’s been in America to boot. Heaven only knows what he’s picked up.” 

“Do not be so sure, Severus,” Dumbledore replied. “Remus Lupin has done wonders in the past few months. Young Harry at least has a grasp of the basics.”

Snape grimaced and Dumbledore couldn’t blame him. On the one hand, Lupin had come very close to killing Snape. On the other, Lupin was one of the few people who could keep up with Snape in terms of Academics, not that Snape would admit it. “I suppose Lupin is an adequate tutor,” Snape replied, “but I have my doubts, Headmaster.” 

“Doubts are not certainties, Severus. Nothing is certain until it happens.” Dumbledore replied, turning away from the window. “Until then, we must always hope and strive for the best.” He smiled. “We should make our way to the Great Hall. Minerva will be cross with us both if we are not seated before the first years arrive.”

“And that would be a tragedy,” Snape replied with a trace of sarcasm. 

The two men left the clock room and continued down the hall as they reached the stairs, Snape spoke again. “There is one other matter, Headmaster.” 

“Yes?”

“Do you not find it odd that Quirrell has taken to wearing a turban?”

“Not at all. Why, I once knew a wizard who wore yellow chiffon gown every third Thursday. Splendid fellow; made his own frostrum.” 

———————————————

Tony Stark’s first full day back in America began when he awoke from a dream where he, Pepper and Rhodey were all teenagers and living in New York, but he was still Iron Man. That was about seven thirty or so. By eight, he’d showered and dressed. Obie had wanted him to lay low and that was fine. He had plans. Things, things to do. 

But first, orange juice. 

Humming to himself, Tony half jogged down the hallway, sidestepping a bird cage, and sauntered into the kitchen. 

Bird cage?

Tony turned around and walked back. The cage sat on the floor near the front door in the way that someone might set down their backpack, purse, or briefcase when they got home. 

“Jarvis, what’s this?” 

“A bird cage, sir. It belongs to Mr. Potter.” 

“Oh. Well when Harry gets here, have him move it.”

“May I remind you, sir, that Mr. Potter left for school three days before you were found.” 

Tony felt the white hot surge of anger flow through him at the time lost and then he buried it. “Right . . . right . . .” Turning on his heel, he headed back towards the kitchen. “Orange juice.”

The fog had rolled in and there was a chill breeze through an open window, which gave Tony pause. Why was there an open window? For that matter, since when did he have windows that could open?

Moving closer, Tony could see that there was a bowl of water on the sill and some sort of perch mounted to the exterior window frame. Shaking his head, he dumped the water down the sink and reached out to close the window when a blur of white feathers entered his filed of vision and he jerked his hand back.

Sitting on the sill was a an owl with feathers of pure white. It stared at him for a moment and then turned towards the frame and stopped, then slowly turned its head to look at him. Gold eyes narrowed and its feathers puffed up.

Tony had the distinct impression the bird was pissed. 

Taking out his phone, he dialed Pepper’s number. 

“Yes, Tony?” Pepper asked on the second ring. 

“Pepper, I got up this morning to get some orange juice and there’s an owl in the kitchen. It came in through an open window pissed off. Why is there an open window in the kitchen? It’s glaring at me, Pepper. Why do I have an open window in the kitchen for pissed off owls to just show up and glare at me?”

“Is it a white owl?” Pepper asked calmly, which Tony found slightly alarming as he was going to get killed and eaten by a pissed off owl and quite frankly, he really felt Pepper should be showing more concern for his well being.

“Yes. Like snow. Like winged angry snow that wants to murder me.” The bird hooted at him and then furiously tapped the sill with it’s beak. “And now it’s tapping the sill. No, I’m not going to put my head there, go find someone else to—“

“Tony!’ Pepper’s shout cut him off. “Her name is Hedwig. She belongs to Harry and she— look, just put me on speakerphone.” Tony did so. “Hedwig?” The owl cocked it’s head at the phone and then hooted. “The man is Tony. I was going to explain things to him when Remus and I arrived today. I’m sorry.” The owl hooted again. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. Tony, there’s a water dish on the window sill, fill it with fresh water.”

“But death owl.”

“She’s not a death owl, Tony.”

“Pepper, I’m pretty sure she wants to murder me.”

“Tony! Give her fresh water and try to make friends. Ten minutes.” Pepper hung up.

“Right. Right. Fresh water.” Tony kept one eye on Hedwig (and what kind of name was that for anything?) and filled the dish with water before setting it on the sill, ready to jerk his hand away in case Hedwig sprouted owl guns or something. No weaponry appeared, but Hedwig dipped her beak into the dish, lifted her beak out, clacked it a few times, then dipped it in again. 

“Thirsty, huh?” Tony asked. Hedwig glared at him. “Right, right. Shutting up.”

————————————

“Well what about rerouting the power through—“ Tony asked, pointing at his screen, only to be interrupted by Hedwig’s hoot. “Well yeah, I know I need to EMP shield the core, but—” 

“Hoot! Hoot!” Hedwig was perched on Tony’s shoulder and she leaned forward to peer at the screen. “Hoot!”

“I need output better than three gigaojoules. The power has to go through here!”

“Hooooot!’

By the workshop door, Pepper turned to Remus. “What are the odds that Hedwig is actually arguing engineering with him?” 

Remus shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. Post owls have been exposed to magic for a thousand years or more. It’s sunk into their blood and bone. Not even wizards fully understand how they get around or find the recipient. They . . . just do.”

“So it’s equally possible she’s telling him to shut up so she can sleep?”

“If she wanted to sleep, she’d be in her box,” Remus replied, indicating the birdhouse he, Pepper and Harry had put together the previous month. It now sat in the lounge area near the fridge. “I don’t speak owl, Pepper.”

“Potts, there you are.” Tony was walking over to them, Hedwig still perched on his shoulder and Remus considered the man he’d only seen in pictures. In person, Tony was perhaps Pepper’s height when she was in heels, short dark hair, a mustache and goatee that was carefully shaved to give width to his narrow face and a point to his chin. His black shirt was grease stained and smeared with the signs of a thousand lunches and late night dinners. Under the fabric, some sort of disc glowed and the shirt itself hung on a frame that suggested broad shoulders and chest. Unlike Stane, Tony was not strung together by bone, muscle and tendon, but more compact, sleek. His eyes were moody, distracted. 

A tiger, Remus decided. If Obadiah Stane was a bear, then Tony was a tiger, and going by the look in his eyes, a tiger that had just woken up and saw no particular reason to rush.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said pleasantly. “Sleep well?” 

“Incense, I need incense that smells like burning candles. Or lamp oil,” Tony replied and then fastened dark brown and suddenly very alert eyes on Remus. “Who are you? Pepper, who is this?”

“This is Remus Lupin,” Pepper replied. “Remus, this is Tony Stark.”

“Good to meet you,” Tony told him, those same eyes taking his measure. His handshake was firm, with callouses and burn scars.

“Remus works for SI now. He’s also a wizard and a graduate of Hogwarts.” Tony looked at her blankly. “The magic school Harry’s at.”

“Oh. Good. Then you don’t have to go find one. Awesome. Cross that off the list.”

“List?” Pepper asked.

“Yes, Potts, list. I told you, vacation’s over.” Pepper gave Remus a side glance, but opened her padfolio and clicked her pen. “Call a contractor and take some bids. I want this whole house wheelchair accessible and handicap friendly top to bottom. Find an apartment or twelve that’s the same. You’ve already found a wizard, so set him up with an expense account. I want everything he can find about magic. Spells, magic gizmos, doodads, hullabaloos, whatever.” Pepper’s pen scratched across the paper as she wrote. “I need palladium, a twelve by twelve grid of mats and have the contractors also bid for a twelve by ten by eight pit here in the workshop. I need carbon steel, the V-Vac micro computer, Two Hundred TB of flash storage, the missile repulsor arrays and the EMP shielding. Contact HR, everyone in Weapons Development is getting transferred to other departments or to StarkCom. If they don’t like it, they can quit, but we are not laying anyone off.”

“Stark . . . com?” Pepper asked.

“Our new division. I’m going to wipe the floor with Jobs AND Google in the cell phone market.” Tony pursed his lips. “Oh yeah. Whatever department you put Wolifie McWolfwolf here in, transfer him to my personal R&D team.”

“You don’t have a personal R&D team, Tony,” Pepper replied.

“I do now. Make it happen.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. Pepper’s description of Tony Stark was a man who flew by the seat of his pants, bull-rushing his way through obstacles as they happened and leaving her to clean up his mess. This didn’t match that description. This was a man with a plan and Remus couldn’t help but smile in anticipation. 

This was going to be interesting. 

————————————————————

It wasn’t until almost lunch time when Pepper remembered that Hedwig had come to the house for a reason and dashed downstairs to the workshop. Tony was glued to his computer and Hedwig was perched on one of the monitors, eyes half closed.

“Hedwig, I am sorry, I am so sorry,” Pepper apologized as she untied the letter that had been strapped to the bird’s leg. “I completely forgot.”

Hedwig responded with an extremely disgruntled hoot before spreading her wings and gliding across the room to her birdhouse where she ducked inside, pausing only to pull the door shut. 

“Is that a letter?” Tony asked. “The death owl brought you a letter?”

“Hedwig is not a death owl, Tony,” Pepper told him. “If she was, you would be in pieces and Remus, Happy and I would be updating our resumes.” She waved the letter at him. “And yes, its a letter and yes, Hedwig brought it. In the Wizarding World, owls are the mail carriers. More specifically, she carries mail from Harry.”

That got Tony’s attention. “So then that letter . . .?”

“Is from Harry, yes.” Pepper sighed. “Hedwig is really annoyed with me though. She couldn’t sleep until I collected the letter, and I was so distracted by you, I didn’t think of why she was here.”

“Wait. Is that a hand-written letter? No email? If I want to write to Harry, I have to sit down and write?” Pepper had a hard time not laughing at the look on Tony’s face. “What’s their phone number? Can I at least call?”

Pepper shook her head. “Anything electronic or electrical doesn’t work there. Too much magical energy floating around. Remus described it as water over a campfire.” She spread her hands. “Poof.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, and then he crossed his arms and leaned on the table. “All right then, let’s hear it.” He waved a hand at the letter. “Read, Potts.”

“Your pardon, Sir,” Jarvis interrupted, “Mr. Hogan and Mr. Lupin have returned with a truck.” At the charging station, the three robots Tony had designated, for reasons only he knew, Butterfingers, Dummy, and You, whirred and began heading up the ramp towards the garage entrance, pausing only to grab the push carts. 

———————————————

Dear Aunt Pepper,

The staircases move! They move! I mean, really move. We have to keep an eye on them because they like to change and the paintings are alive. I have to recite a password to this one of a really fat lady because she’s the door to our dorm and I’ve got dorm mates. It’s like camp. 

Pepper smiled as she continued to read through the letter, passing pages to Tony as she finished them, but she had began to form a picture of Hogwarts and a healthy respect for Harry’s writing ability.

Although Remus had told her stories, Harry’s letter built on that; a thousand year old castle high in the mountains of Scotland, stones worn smooth from generations of students in its halls and enduring weather of every kind. There were paintings that moved and talked, ghosts, and for the first time in his life, Harry didn’t have to guard himself, didn’t have to guard his words. She was so happy for him she could burst. 

“Gryffindor?” Tony asked, looking up from the page he was reading, “What the hell kind of name is Gryffindor? That’s almost as ridiculous as this other guy . . . Slytherin.”

“Godric Gryffindor. As in one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts,” Pepper replied.

“My point stands,” Tony replied. 

Pepper decided to let it go and kept reading as Harry began to talk about the people of Hogwarts, describing the teachers and the friends he was making, and then . . .

“Remus?” Pepper asked. “Do you know a man named Snape?”

“Snape?” Remus looked up from the laptop he’d been working on. “Severus Snape?”

“Snape, Snape, Severus Snape,” Tony muttered. “Who the hell names these people? It’s like a tv show; Potter and his Puppet Pals.”

“I guess so.” Pepper looked down at the letter. “He teaches Potions.”

“Oh yes. Brilliant fellow. Why do you ask?”

“Harry says he gets the feeling Snape doesn’t like him very much.”

“Not surprising, given that Harry looks like James,” Remus replied, getting up to pour some hot water for tea. “Unfortunately.”

“Bad blood?” Tony asked.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Remus replied. “I don’t know much about him. He and Lily - Harry’s mother- grew up together and were friends. I always got the impression he wanted to be more, but she simply didn’t see him that way. They had a falling out shortly before she and James started dating.”

“So he lost the girl,” Tony shrugged. 

“Well, it didn’t help that James and Sirius were also bullying him,” Remus replied. “I imagine he sees James whenever he looks at Harry’ face and Lily when he looks Harry in the eye. Can’t be easy.”

“James was a bully?” Pepper asked. “But Hagrid said—“ She broke off, frowning. During the trip to Diagon Alley, Hagrid had sung the praises of James and Lily Potter, giving the impression of upright and forthright people; a credit to Hogwarts and the magical world. But Hagrid was also blindly loyal to Albus Dumbledore, so she should have thought about whether or not he’d been completely right. 

Remus smiled his twisted, sardonic smile. “Hagrid is many things, bless him, but a good judge of character isn’t one of them.” The kettle whistled and Remus poured hot water into the cup.

“What is it with the British and tea?” Tony asked. “You’re pouring water over bits of leaves.”

“As opposed to pouring water over ground up beans to make coffee?” Remus asked. 

Tony stared at him. “Stop being clever with words.”

Remus laughed softly. “James and Snape took an instant dislike to each other. Historically, Gryffindors and Slytherins have never really gotten along as a group, so that certainly didn’t help, but Snape has his . . . . drawbacks all on his own, so when you added Lily into the mix, well,” he scowled, “And of course, Sirius Black had a hand there as well.”

“So what changed?” Pepper asked. “You said Lily had a falling out with Snape right before she started dating James.” 

“Sirius played a prank on Snape,” Remus replied. “One with potentially lethal consequences for Snape had James not intervened. Snape blamed both James and Sirius for it. Lily was Snape’s only friend and he’d been hanging around with a . . . bad crowd. Between that and Snape doubling down on trying to get her to hate James over the prank, well, she’d had enough.” Remus shook his head. “Snape blamed James for that as well. Even later, when they worked together, Snape continued to hate. James was willing to let the past go, but Sirius . . . we . . . I should have seen it coming back then.”

“Someone died, didn’t they?” Tony asked. “Besides Harry’s parents, I mean.”

“Tony!” Pepper exclaimed.

“What?”

Remus waved a hand. “It’s fine, Pepper.”

“Remus, you don’t have to-“

“No, no. It’s fine. You should know . . . you need to know.” He took a moment to explain to Tony about his friendship with James and the others. “Sirius’ family, the Blacks, are an old, old family. They call themselves the ‘ancient and most most noble House of Black’ with a lineage that goes back to before Merlin himself. Few houses can claim that kind of longevity and since the founding of Hogwarts, they have been part of Slytherin house and all the pureblood dogma you can muster, which is why Sirius broke the mold when he was Sorted into Gryffindor. Went against tradition. In any case, for whatever reason, Voldemort set his sights on killing the Potters and James and Lily went into hiding with Harry. Sirius was the only one who could have told Voldemort where they were.”

“Oh come on, there had to be someone else who knew,” Tony snorted. “You can’t hide a family without help.”

“There were, but it didn’t matter, because Sirius was the Secret Keeper.” At Tony and Pepper’s baffled look, he sighed. “There’s a spell called the Fidelius Charm, It’s old magic, blood magic. It involves concealing a secret inside a single person, and only that person may reveal it. Without Sirius, James and Lily could have walked right past Voldemort and he wouldn’t see them. So you see, it wouldn’t have mattered what the rest of us knew, only Sirius could have told him.”

“Remus, you don’t have to-“ Pepper began, because it was clear the memories were causing him pain. 

“No, no. You need to know. When the Potters were killed, Peter went after Sirius. He was no warrior, and only barely a spy, but James was his friend . . .” Remus shrugged. “When they caught up to him, Sirius was standing at the side of a crater, laughing like a loony, and nothing remained of Peter but a bit of his finger. Sirius was found guilty of treason and murder and sentenced to Azkaban. I expect he’s dead by now, the Dementors would have made short work of him.”

“Dementors?” Tony asked.

“There are such things as boogiemen, Mr. Stark, and even boogiemen are afraid of the Dementors.”

—————————————

“Oi!” Ron Weasley barked, causing Harry to pause. “Slow down there, Mate. Merlin’s beard, I get tired just watching you.”

“Off the bannister, Potter!” A passing prefect barked. 

Harry made a face, but did as ordered and Ron shook his head. Occasionally, you would get a student who slid down the bannisters. Harry was the only one Ron could think of who regularly ran up them. In fact, Harry had a certain notoriety for his seeming inability to stay on the floor if there was some other way. 

“You’re going to get yourself hurt, Harry,” Hermione Granger sniffed as she walked past them. “And you’re breaking the rules.” 

Ron looked at Harry and they both rolled their eyes. Herrnione seemed to feel that rule breaking was a crime that was unforgivable. Or should be. That she had apparently memorized all the textbooks and was happy to do homework just made her a nutter in Ron’s mind. 

Still, she was going to get hers, Ron decided. Their next class was their first flying lesson and you couldn’t study for that. 

——————————————

Minerva McGonagall had always had superior peripheral vision. As a Hogwarts student, it had made her an excellent Quidditch player (She had been both a chaser and a beater), and as a teacher, she could keep an eye on her students even if she was seemingly turned away. 

Which was why, even though she had been in the middle of writing Molly Weasley a letter (Fred and George were in detention for the ninth time this week), she still caught the movement of something flying towards her window. 

And then she watched as Harry Potter rocketed in from seemingly nowhere, snatching the object from mid-air even as he pulled his broom to a stop. He obviously hadn’t seen her, but she could see him staring down at his hand and grinning. 

A dozen thoughts and possibilities raced through her mind as she let the quill fall to the desk and ran from the room. Chief among them was that Gryffindor finally had a chance to take the Quidditch Cup and possibly even the House Cup and wipe that slight smirk off Severus Snape’s face at the end of year feast. Oh yes. Of course, she would need to convince Albus to grant an exemption for Potter, but she was fairly confident he would agree.

That night, she could not stop herself from smirking at Snape as they entered the Great Hall. This was going to be the best year ever. 

—————————————————————

“I have to admit, Albus, I am impressed by you and your staff’s ingenuity.” For a man who was over six hundred years old, Nicolas Flamel certainly didn’t look it, but then again, he was one of the world’s only two immortals. “Though I’m none to sure about some of the puzzles.” 

“We tried our best, Nicolas,” Dumbledore replied as the two men existed the third floor corridor, the sounds of a harp fading away as the door locked. “The true strength of the defenses is their diversity.”

“I don’t doubt that, Albus, but some of them . . .” Flamel waved a hand at the door. “Like that beast in there.”

“Fluffy is merely a deterrent for the children,” Dumbledore replied as the two men descended the stairs, “and Pomona does not cover the Devil’s Snare in her curriculum. It would take an extremely dedicated student to discover its secrets.”

“Hm.” Flamel grunted. “And the logic puzzle?”

“Severus Snape is profoundly gifted in the field of logic,” Dumbledore explained. “Second only to his skill at potions and I have yet to meet anyone who can surpass him, myself included. But more importantly, Voldemort discouraged the study of logic among his followers, making it unlikely any of them would be capable of solving it.”

Flamel snorted. “I don’t doubt Voldemort’s power, Albus, but even if he’s still alive as you claim, he’s yet to show his face in the past ten years, and even Eibrich the Vile didn’t wait that long.” Flamel smiled. “Though I expect he wished he had as I was packing him off to Azkaban.” He looked at the ceiling. “That was, oh, I don’t even remember now. So long ago.”

Dumbledore looked at his old friend. “Nicolas?”

Flamel sighed. “Perenelle and I have been talking as of late, and . . . six and a half centuries is a very long time, Albus, and the Stone is far too dangerous to be left behind in anyone’s hands. At the risk of being offensive, my friend, that includes yours.”

Dumbledore merely nodded. “No offense taken, Nicolas. Though if it’s any comfort, I have no desire for the stone and while the final decision belongs to you and Perenelle, I must confess that I would miss our bridge games.”

Flamel threw back his head and laughed. 

——————————

Pepper gave one last grimace as she signed the hospital bill, her eyes lingering on the total for a moment before passing the paperwork back to the nurse in charge. She was glad this was coming out of Tony’s pocket. While Stark Industries had a top rated health plan, this went beyond that. Way beyond.

Checking her Blackberry, she answered emails until the sound of wheels on linoleum reached her ears and she looked up and gave her best smile at the man in the wheelchair being pushed by a sour-faced orderly. He appeared to be in his late forties, dressed in a suit and clutching a plastic bag full of pill vials.

“I was told Tony Stark paid my bill,” he said to her. “Which means you must be Pepper Potts.”

“I am,” Pepper replied and held out her hand.

“He spoke of you a great deal,” the man replied, taking her hand and giving her an unsure smile. “Josef Yinsen.”

“A pleasure, Doctor,” Pepper replied as they headed for the exit. 

Outside, Happy waited by a large van and a motorized wheelchair. The orderly unceremoniously transferred Yinsen to the new chair and then went back inside. 

“Happy, would you get Doctor Yinsen loaded into the van? Mr. Stark is expecting us back soon.”

“Sure thing, Ms Potts,” Happy replied. 

“Ms. Potts, not to seem ungrateful,” Yinsen spoke up, “but if Stark paid my hospital bill just to get me to come work for him. . . ”

“Oh no, Doctor,” Pepper replied with the ease of someone who had had this conversation before. “The hospital bill and the chair is Mr. Stark thanking you. Everything after this is where he gets you to work for him.”

She gave him a sunny smile and Yinsen weakly smiled back and wondered if if would have been better had he died in the cave. 

————————————————————

Josef Yinsen considered himself a patient man, but the air of mystery was, if he was to be candid, driving him nuts. It was true that he was grateful to Stark for paying his bill, and the wheelchair was incredibly comfortable, not to mention L.A. was spectacular, but he could not shake the air of unease that nibbled and pried at the back of his mind. 

Part of it, he supposed, was waking up alive. When he’d charged out of the room to give Stark time, he’d hadn’t expected to wake up in a military hospital. Apparently while he’d been shot multiple times, they hadn’t been fatal. Oh, had the Americans not arrived when they did to investigate the blast Stark had set off before leaving, he would have bled out, but they’d gotten to him in time to save his life. 

He was unsure if he hated them for that or not.

He looked down at his lap and scowled slightly. Before heading to Stark’s, they had stopped at a secondhand store where Potts had asked him to pick out some knick-knack, apparently on Stark’s instructions, who was also very intent that once he had made his choice, he was to keep it with him until they arrived at Stark’s. Yinsen had complied, if only because his curiosity was (so far) outweighing his irritation at the mystery. 

“Ms Potts,” he asked. “Are you sure you can’t tell me what this is about?”

She nodded. “Sorry, Doctor, but Tony wants you to hit the ground running, his words, not mine, sorry.”

Yinsen sighed. “He does tend to talk first think later, doesn’t he?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“We shared a cave, Ms Potts. I can believe quite a bit.”

She looked at him gravely. “To be honest, Doctor, this is more than a bit.”

By the time, they arrived at Stark’s, Yinsen’s was equal parts curious, irritated, and in pain, which is why he rolled into Stark’s workshop and glared at him. 

“Yinsen!” Tony exclaimed, “how are you?”

“What is the meaning of this, Stark?” Yinsen waved the knick-knack (some sort of duck looking thing dressed in an orange sports jersey) at him.

“Fair enough,” Stark replied and waved a hand at a man with an impressive mustache. “That’s Lupin, we’ll get back to him.” He indicated at a card table in the middle of the room. “Okay, so, card table. Take a look, check it over, no hidden pockets or anything funny, right?”

Yinsen huffed but dutifully examined the table. It was exactly as it appeared; an ordinary table. “Right.”

“Okay, so knick knack in the center - that is a godawful shade of orange - right. Okay, Moon Moon, do your thing.”

Lupin gave Stark a look, but he took out a wooden stick and waved it at the knick-knack, which promptly turned into a small squirrel. Another wave, and the knick knack was a duck again. 

“How—“ Yinsen stared. “What trick is this, Stark?”

“You picked out that thing with no help from Potts, right?” Tony leaned forward, staring directly into Yinsen’s eyes. “It never left your sight, and that table has no pockets, neither Lupin or I touched it or was in any position to do some David Copperfield stuff, right?”

Yinsen swallowed. “Right.” His mouth was bone dry, his thoughts drowning in mud. “Magic. Magic is real.”

“Yup, magic is real, Lupin is a wizard, and we need your help.” 

“My . . . help?” Yinsen’s brain was slowly chugging to life again. “Stark, what could you possibly need my help for when you have a wizard?” 

“There’s . . . limitations,” Lupin explained.

“And for why, we need someone who with skills at marrying flesh and tech.” Tony called up something on a monitor. “Because we’re making this.”

Yinsen stared at the screen, absorbing the schematic even as he read the notes scrolling up the side. “You’re mad, Stark.”

“That’s what I told him,” Lupin murmured. 

Yinsen gripped the armrests of his chair. “This . . . this is insane. They don’t even go together!” Stark flipped to another screen, this one with an mathematical equation on it and further protests died in Yinsen’s throat as he realized that Stark was not only serious, but had the math to back him up. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“More than serious,” Stark told him. “This is just phase one.” He let that hang in the air. “So what do you say, Yinsen, you in?” He held out his hand. 

Yinsen stared at the hand, thinking of every single reason not to take it and the one single overriding one that he should. 

“God help me,” he muttered, half prayer, half casting himself to the winds of fate and took Stark’s hand. “Yes,” he said. “I’m in.”

Stark grinned.   
———————————————  
Author’s note.   
I know exactly what Tony’s up to. You, however, are going to have to wait and find out. 

Mine is an evil laugh . . .


	4. Chapter 4

“You are failing, Stane,” said the man on the computer screen. “Stark is supposed to be dead.”

“‘And the Army is supposed to be wiping out the Ten Rings in response,” Stane retorted. He didn’t know the other man’s name because he wasn’t high enough in the ranks to know, and that turned his guts. All he did know was that the man was called “Node”, and he was some kind of coordinator.

“There were complications,” Node said, though he looked slightly guilty. He was a dark skinned man with a bald head and glasses.

“ _Complication,”_ Stane corrected. “Raza fucked up.”

“That’s your concern,” Node shot back. “You hired him, you must deal with his failure.”

Stane snorted. “I leave for Dubai in a month and a half. Simple enough to make a side trip.”

“And Stark?”

“He’s up to something,” Stane growled. “For twenty years, I’ve had to practically twist that punk’s arm just to get him to work with our people, hell, with anyone, and now he’s put together a research team working out of his house. AND, he’s refashioned weapons development into making environmentally friendly cell phones. Goddamn hippie bullshit is what it is.”

Node decided not to reply to that. Stane’s ruthlessness and the arrogance that drove it had been one of the reasons he’d been recruited. But it also made him dangerous and erratic. “Again, your concern,” Node said out loud. “Find out what Stark is making, get him back under control or eliminate him, and keep the weapon shipments moving. Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra,” Stane replied and the screen went dark. “Prick,” he added

————————————————

Pepper had known Hogwarts would exceed her mental picture, but she hadn’t expected to exceed it this much. Towers stretched up to the sky from behind broad, thick walls, inset with gleaming windows and crafted from large stone and brick. Even from where she stood at the gate, feet rooted to the ground in awe, she could feel the history, the sheer age of the building, and yet, somehow, it was imposing without being threatening, radiating a sort of majestic permanence that spoke of welcome. I am here, it seemed to say, I will always be here. “I never . . . my God . . .” she breathed.

“I know,” Remus murmured. “I felt the same way. i think just about everyone does.”

Pepper laughed and tried to imagine Tony’s reaction. “Tony’s would be awe followed by a detailed critique of every single structural flaw as he pretends that he was never awed in the first place.”

“Probably,” Remus agreed. “I’m a little surprised he didn’t want to come along, actually.”

“I’m not,” Pepper replied. “Believe it or not, Tony’s a homebody. Given the choice, he always prefers to stay home and in his workshop.” They started walking and Pepper shivered slightly as she felt the tingle of the wards. An amulet she wore around her neck allowed her safe passage through the castle’s magic and to see past the illusion that kept it safe from prying eyes. “Most of the reputation and rumors are false or exaggerated.” Her mouth turned down in a frustrated scowl. “ _Including_ the one that he and I are secret lovers.”

“That one I’ve heard,” Remus drawled. “My neighbor Clarence is quite fond of it. It is apparently my duty as a Stark employee to speak out and confirm that all the rumors are true. Even the ones that contradict each other.”

Pepper gave him a pained look. “Remus, we pay you enough, you have . . . a wide choice of neighborhoods.” Remus’ neighborhood, a swath of homes out in the desert, was more like a demilitarized zone than a community.

Remus shrugged. “I’ve lived in worse. All the houses have good solid walls. Nice and are soundproof, good for privacy.” He smiled that twisted, sardonic smile that Pepper found to be equal parts fascinating and frustrating. “Besides, I’d miss Clarence.”

Pepper laughed at that. “But yes, no truth to the rumors.” She paused. “Tony is a good man, and Harry adores him and Tony adores him right back. And . . . I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, and Harry would be over the moon, but I can’t. I mean, he’s the closest thing I have to a best friend, but he’s my boss, and . . . I can’t. I won’t. Not even for Harry’s sake.”

Remus struggled to keep his expression neutral, as he pointed out some of the castle’s more notable features. Pepper had that iron-clad sense of self-awareness and refusal to compromise that awareness that he’d always found attractive in someone and it was stirring feelings that he hadn’t felt since . . . Remus clamped down on that as well. A relationship with Sirius had never been in the equation and even if he turned out to be innocent, and Remus couldn’t see how, they were both different men now. Too different to pick up where they’d left off. “Is the forest part of the school?”

Pepper asked, jerking Remus from his thoughts. “Ah, yes and no,” Remus replied. “Technically, this is centaur land. For their time, the Founders were incredibly liberal and progressive, but they still chose to build Hogwarts here and forced the centaurs and other magical creatures into the forest. It’s better now than it used to be, though I understand the current caretaker likes to have students serve detention with Hagrid when he has to go into the forest. Especially at night.”

“That’s . . . unsettling.” Remus smiled. “Hagrid wouldn’t let anything in the forest lay a hand on them. He has a crossbow that will put down a werewolf at fifty meters and he’s very good with it.” “

There’s werewolves in the forest?”

“Lupin,” a man dressed entirely in black had caught up to them. His voice was level, and despite that they were the same height, Pepper suddenly felt like she was a kid on the very first day of school.

“Hello, Severus,” Remus replied. “How’s the new crop this year?”

“Poorly prepared, untalented, and singularly lacking anything resembling aptitude.”

“Isn’t that always the way? Ah, forgive me. Pepper, may I introduce Severus Snape, the school’s Potions Master. Severus, this is Pepper Potts.”

“A pleasure,” Snape said, clearly not meaning it at all. “I assume the horrific pun is some sort of nickname.”

“Well, yes,” Pepper admitted. “But I’ve grown used to it.” She tried one of her best smiles, the one that had thawed even the Russian foreign minister, whose icy demeanor was legendary. Snape’s lips didn’t so much as twitch.

“I must commend you, Lupin. Potter isn’t as big of an idiot as I’d expect.” Pepper bristled, but Snape didn’t even blink. “Dumbledore tells me that’s your doing.”

Remus shrugged. “We made a few basic potions, went through the textbooks, nothing special. You’re the Potions Master, Severus, I know where my talents lie.” “Indeed. You always did know your limits, Lupin,” Snape said. With that, he strode off, black robe swishing about his legs.

Pepper shivered. “Unpleasant. And rude.”

“For Severus that was high praise.” Remus cocked his head. “He was rather chatty, actually. I wonder why.”

——————————————————————

Pepper’s cheeks were flushed with excitement when she and Lupin returned. She wasn’t much of a sports person, but she’d had to admit that Quidditch was very exciting and she was very pleased that Harry was enjoying it as well, his brief brush with death notwithstanding. She hadn’t told Harry about Tony either, That was a surprise for christmas. She and Harry also needed to have a long talk. Setting her coat down, she turned to see Lupin watching her, some sort of unreadable expression on his face.

“Remus? Is something wrong?”

“Ah . . . no, no.” He smiled. “I was just thinking that James and Lily must be incredibly glad that Harry is with you and not the Dursleys.”

“The who?”

“Lily’s sister and her husband. Unpleasant sorts.”

“The ones Dumbledore went to first?”

Remus nodded. “Petunia despised Lily for being a witch, mostly jealously, I think. They turned their backs on her when she married James. I shudder to think what kind of person Harry would have been under their care.”

“Are they really that bad?” Pepper asked. “Why would Dumbledore even think of them in the first place if they’re so bad?”

“Blood,” Remus told her. “‘Blood harms, blood protects, blood connects’, that’s the first rule— the oldest rule — of magic. It all comes down, or back to, blood. Simply put, Petunia has the strongest blood connection to Harry, meaning that living in her home, Harry would have the strongest protection.”

“But she didn’t want him.”

“Apparently so. As Harry’s next closest blood relative, your blood also offers protection, just not as strong.” “But between SI’s security and being in California, any loss in protection is made up for. Or should be?” She crossed her arms. “Still, these Dursleys, that they were even in the running . . . is Harry’s safety that important?”

“Dumbledore seems to think so,” Remus replied. “I don’t fancy his methods, Pepper, but he usually knows what he’s doing.”

At that moment, the house intercom went off. “Pepper!” It was Tony. “How big are your hands?”

“What?” Pepper asked. “Your hands. Show me your — just get down here.”

The intercom clicked off.

———————————————

In the workshop, Tony lay on a bed, stripped to his waist, his arc pacemaker or whatever it was — Pepper understood that it was keeping him alive, but that was about it — half out of his chest. Yinsen was next to the bed, looking slightly frazzled.

“Hands,” Tony barked.

“Tony, if you got ahold of plutonium again,” Pepper warned.

“Nah, I’m on a watchlist for that, which is really unfair — okay good. Hands are good. C’mere.”

Yinsen cleared his throat. “We are upgrading the chest implant,” he explained. “But there is a wire in the wrong place that must be moved. I can’t stand up or lean forward and Stark’s hands are too big.” He held out a set of latex gloves. Pepper nodded and pulled them on. “Do exactly as I tell you,” Yinsen ordered.

His directions were terse, but clear and it was really weird reaching into someone’s chest, but it all went off without a hitch. “Im impressed Ms. Potts,” Yinsen told her, “I’ve known surgeons who didn’t have your calm.” “

I’m raising a child, Doctor,” Pepper told him, peeling off the gloves. There was insulating gel in the cavity that reminded her way too much of pus. Ew. “This is hardly the most disgusting thing I’ve ever had to deal with.”

“Really?” Tony asked.

“Remember Harry and the peaches?”

“To my eternal horror.” Tony pulled his shirt on. “Bathtub had to be nuked from orbit,” he told Remus. “It was the only way to be sure.”

Pepper picked up the old implant. “What about this?”

“I am many things, Potts. Nostalgic isn’t one of them.” Tony made a dismissive gesture. “Toss it. Gentlemen, with me.”

As they moved off to the computer bay, Pepper looked down at the implant and then back over at Tony and smiled. She knew exactly what to do. “Jarvis?” she asked as she climbed the stairs, “find me one of those places that makes those lucite trophy boxes.”

————————————

Quirinus Quirrell stared down at his hands. Despite repeated washings, sometimes until the skin was red and raw, he still thought there was a gleam of silver to them. The stain of blood. Of unicorn blood. It was glorious.

 _It is power, whispered the Master._ As I promised. _Do you not feel it, Quirrell?_ He did. He did feel it. Sometimes it was all he could do not to dance though the halls. But he had a role to play, and he would not fail.

Quirinus Quirrell had never been a good man.

Now, he was no longer a man at all.

————————————

Intellectually, Tony knew he couldn’t blame Rhodey for thinking that Tony needed to “get his mind right”, but God, if there was anyone who he thought should hear him out, it was Rhodey. But as much as Tony had faith in their friendship, today was proof that Rhodey still saw Tony Stark as the guy who made weapons. Stripping off his coat, he tossed it on the couch and jogged downstairs.

His dreams last night had been full of his weapons. His weapons, weapons he had created to protect his country’s interests, weapons that belonged in the hands of soldiers, not in the hands of terrorists. Worse, while Tony didn’t know much about the Black Market, he did know that you couldn’t buy as many Starkweapons as he had seen in that camp without having a direct line to the source. Someone in Stark Industries was dealing under the table and he meant to find out who and then he was going to do something about it.

“Jarvis, you up?” He asked, sliding into his chair, his fingers already on the keyboard, dancing as he recreated the onionskin plans he’d drawn up in the cave.

“For you, Sir, always,” Jarvis replied and Tony grinned, before he sobered up and continued typing, refining and adding, as on the screen, the Mark 1 took shape. With a final flourish, he added in the schematics for the Mark 2 chest piece and hit save.

“I’d like to open a new project file, index as ‘Mark Two’ and then, for my eyes only, attach project Cool Name and categorize it as a modular component.” While Cool Name—he really needed to come up with a better name— was still in the research stage, it was best to account for it now. “Throw in the chest piece as part of life support while you’re at it.”

“I assume the addition of Project Cool Name indicates you wish to store the Mark Two on your private server.” “You know it, Jay.” Grabbing a light pen, Tony flipped the Mark Two over to his holo table and watched as the Mark One took shape.

His original plan had been for Rhodey to wear the suit, but since Rhodey apparently thought that Tony was crazy (and maybe he was, just a little bit), he was just going to have to do this himself.

Get his mind right?

His mind had never felt righter.

———————————

“That is totally barbaric!” Hermione flushed as she watched the destroyed chess pice reassemble itself on the side of the board.

“That,” Ron replied, “is Wizard Chess.”

“Wizard Chess is totally barbaric,” Hermione clarified.

Personally, Harry thought Wizard Chess was awesome. It reminded him of playing Battle Chess against Jarvis. Hogwarts at Christmas, though, was even awesome-er.

Wreathes over the doors, the huge christmas tree that Hagrid had literally dragged in and Harry wished he had a tape recorder because hearing ghosts sing as they roamed the halls in group put the operas and choral concerts Aunt Pepper liked to listen to to shame. Heck, he wanted a _camera_.

“So,” Hermione continued, sitting next to Ron, “you’re both going home?”

“Nope,” Ron told her. “Mum and Dad are off to visit my brother Charlie in Romania, and Harry has invited me to come stay with him. In America.”

He said the last word with relish, watching Hermione to see her reaction. Harry took the opportunity to set up one of Ron’s knights for capture.

“Hm,” Hermione might have looked slightly jealous, but it was difficult to tell. “Then you’ll have to visit a library there, then. We still don’t know who Nicolas Flamel is.”

“We’re going to ask Remus,” Harry told her, “He knows everything.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“All right, everyone,” Percy Weasley called out. “Everyone going home for Christmas, gather by the doors, carriages leave in five minutes! Five minutes, everyone!”

————————————

Remus had met them at King’s Cross and once they had taken the Portkey to Los Angeles, Happy had been just outside the entrance to the Mercado De Las Pulgas, which was Los Angeles’ version of Diagon Alley, the name reflecting the city’s Spanish roots.

Ron hadn’t been too amazed by the limo, he insisted his Dad had one that he was working on to make magic. Not a limo, a car, but it was the same thing, apparently.

This early, traffic was supremely light, and they made good time back to Tony’s house, Harry didn’t think too much on it, they had always celebrated Christmas at Tony’s house, but it did remind him of something. “Remus? Has there been word about Tony?”

Remus looked at him gravely. “I’m afraid you’ll need to ask Pepper about that, Harry.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry said, turning towards the house, which was fortunate, because Remus was trying very hard not to laugh and for just a moment, he’d lost control and a smile broke out on his face. Still, he held Ron back with a hand as Harry went inside.

“Wait for it,” Remus said simply. Then, from inside, loud enough that they could probably have heard it at Hogwarts; “TONY!”

“Thanks,” Ron said.

“Not at all.”

———————————————

The balcony just off the living room of Tony’s house boasted a small herb garden, courtesy of Pepper, who had started it largely because it seemed like she spent three quarters of her life here and had reasoned that access to fresh herbs for cooking was worth spending extra effort to grow them She also enjoyed gardening as a relaxation method and working for Tony caused her no end of stress.

“Aunt Pepper?” Pepper turned to see Harry standing there, looking pensive and Pepper managed a smile. This was the conversation she’d been dreading for years.

“Hello, Harry.” Rising, she stepped over to the bench and Harry sat down next to her. “Is something wrong?”

“Why did you never tell me I was a wizard?” He looked hurt and betrayed and Pepper felt like she could have thrown herself into the water below for causing it.

“Do you remember last year at science camp when they had that guest speaker? The one with the funny name?”

Harry nodded. “Otto Octavius.”

Pepper nodded. “Remember what he said about science? It was about being able to understand something well enough to explain it to other people and if you couldn’t understand something well enough to explain it, don’t try.” Harry nodded. “I don’t understand magic, Harry. I don’t understand what being magical means or is and until Remus showed up. there was no one who could teach me.” She put her arm around his shoulders. “Harry, when Dumbledore brought you to me, you were this . . . bundle in a basket with a cut on your forehead and the most brilliant eyes I’d ever seen and he told me exactly what I needed to hear to take you in and I’m glad he did because you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Really,” Pepper confirmed. “But, it also means I’ve pretty much been in the dark. Harry, you’re going someplace where Tony and I can’t follow; you’re magical, we’re not. It’s two different worlds.”

“Like that’s going to stop us from trying,” Tony added and Pepper glanced up. Tony stood by the sliding glass door. “Face it, Mop.” Tony continued, sitting down on Harry’s other side. “You’re stuck with us.”

As the sun set, a very unconventional family sat on that balcony, reaffirming that whatever else, no one would be taking them apart. What none of them saw was that through the window, Remus Lupin was watching, and considering leaving.

————————————

Harry had his own room at Tony’s house, as did Pepper. With nine bedrooms, there was plenty of room for a pair of semi-permanent houseguests. Tony, proving that once again, his time away had changed him, was loving having guests over, dead set on making this a christmas to remember.

Harry and Ron had spent the day exploring the estate, exposing Ron to video games, and, at least for Harry, catching up on Naruto. Later, Ron confided to Pepper that he didn’t understand the appeal of the show, but he did like “American Telly”. Now, Harry and Ron bunked down on a set of cots in the middle of Harry’s room, sharing a bag of Skittles. Both boys were still filled with the energy of the very young and despite the jet lag, were still, as Happy would put it, “raring to go”.

“This place is huge,” Ron marveled, “and there’s no house elves. How is it so clean?”

Harry, having no idea what a house elf was, shrugged.

“Dunno. I think Tony has robots or something.”

“Wicked. Dad would have a field day with this place.” Ron paused. Arthur Weasley had an almost fanatical obsession for trying to figure out all things Muggle and a place like this, would be his Holy Grail. “We can’t tell him about it. He’d move in and never leave. And Mum would blame me for it.”

The door opened and Pepper poked her head in. “Alright you two, bed. We need to leave early tomorrow.”

“Aw, but Aunt Pepper, we’re not sleepy,” Harry protested. Can’t we stay up?”

“Harry, do you really want to be tired when riding Space Mountain tomorrow?” Harry’s eyes lit up. “No.”

Pepper grinned. “Then bed. Jarvis, lights out. Set the alarm for five.”

"Of course, Miss Potts.” The lights dimmed as Harry and Ron laid down. “Good night,”

“Good night, Aunt Pepper,” Harry replied. “Good night, Jarvis. ’Night, Ron.”

“Good night, Harry,” Pepper replied and left, closing the door behind her.

“What’s Space Mountain?” Ron asked. “It’s a ride at Disneyland.”

“What’s Disneyland?”

“It’s a place. Better than Hogwarts.”

Somehow, Ron doubted that. Muggles were weird.

———————————

Muggles. Were. AWESOME!

The rides, the sights, the stores, the people in costume, and the food! The food!

“I want to live here,” Ron said, mouth full of turkey. “Can I live here?”

There was a section of Disneyland themed like American Western movies which had turkey legs that rivaled those served at Hogwarts, but bigger. “Forget Hogwarts. This is where i want to go.”

“Aunt Pepper says that if you lived here, it wouldn’t be special anymore,” Harry replied.

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” Ron told him. Harry shrugged in the universal manner of “Adults were weird”, and took another bite of turkey leg.

A short distance away, Remus, Pepper, and Tony were enjoying their own turkey legs. Yinsen had elected to stay behind at the mansion to run calculations. “Ah, youth,” Remus marveled, watching Harry and Ron all but inhale the food.

“Says the guy who was sick just last week,” Tony told him, eyeing Remus’ plate which had been loaded down only slightly less than Harry and Ron’s plates had been. “Is all that food a wizard thing?”

“Yes and no,” Remus replied. “Magic is biological, at least in part, and I have been using a lot of magic for Project Cool Name . . . and we really need a new name for that.”

“Like?” Tony asked.

Remus thought for a moment and then sighed. “I have no bloody idea.”

“I still think we need to give more attention to Phase 2,” Pepper pointed out. “I know, I know, Phase 1 is still in the research stage, we’re nowhere even close to building it, but without groundwork . . .”

“Potts, relax. Disneyland. Fun. Stuff. Work later.” Tony waved a hand. “Fun.”

——————————————

In an unremarkable office in an unremarkable office building, two men studied the screen before them.

“Jas?” Phillip Coulson asked. He was one of those men who was capable of blending in anywhere by dint of being very forgettable. Short brown hair, unremarkable facial features, and dressed in a suit that gave no hints to its origins. Anyone from a lowly office drone to a lawyer on their way to court might have worn such a suit, and Coulson could have been any of those. Japser Sitwell, by comparison, looked exactly like an office drone. Not a lowly one, but he had that pallor that could only come from being exposed to artificial light for hours on end, day in, day out. He had recently been promoted to level 8 clearance, and as Senior agent, it was Coulson’s responsibility to brief him on certain things. That two men were also friends, albeit only in the intelligence sense of the word (your friend today may kill you tomorrow and might or might not feel bad about it).

“That Merlin Codex is fantastic,” Sitwell admitted, and then held up his hand and a long thin stick slid out of his sleeve. “Did get a few things wrong though.” The stick vanished into his sleeve again.

Coulson sighed and updated Sitwell’s file. “You should have mentioned it early on. You get a pay raise.”

“Statue for Secrecy,” Sitwell replied.

“Fair enough.” Coulson closed Sitwell’s file.

“How does Shield know about the Magical world?” Sitwell’s tone was curious.

“Apparently Director Carter came to some sort of agreement with the Wizengamot,” Coulson told him. “The exact details of the agreement are only known by Director Fury.”

“Carter is a witch?” Sitwell asked, shocked. Coulson shrugged. “Unknown. If she is, she’s kept a secret.”

“But then how did she even—“

Again, Coulson shrugged. “You would have to ask Director Fury.”

Sitwell visibly shuddered. In some ways, Fury was scarier than the Black Widow. “I assume I was briefed on the Merlin Codex existence for a reason besides being level eight?”

Coulson nodded. “As you know, Tony Stark returned from Afghanistan last month and has been avoiding debriefing, which is hindering operations against the Ten Rings terrorist group. Instead he is in seclusion at his home in Malibu, having emerged twice, once just after Thanksgiving to travel to Los Angeles AFB to speak with Colonel James Rhodes, a long time friend and then today, to go to Disneyland, where he has booked a suite of rooms for five days. We also believe he’s made contact with the Magical World and he’s been shipping materials to his house from Stark International. According to our sources, he’s formed a personal research team composed of himself, Doctor Josef Yinsen, who was imprisoned with him in Afghanistan, and—“

“Lupin!” Sitwell exclaimed as Lupin’s picture came on screen.

“You know him?”

“Know of him,” Sitwell clarified. “We studied magic at the same school, but were in different houses and different years.” He thought for a moment, anticipating Coulson’s next question. “Usually had a book with him. Made prefect, but Potter took Head Boy.” Sitwell thought some more. “Dark Arts specialist, knows a lot of about magical creatures and how to counter curses and hexes.”

Coulson nodded. “What else do you know about Stark?”

“As little as possible,” Sitwell replied. distaste evident in his voice.

“Stark has no biological children that we know of, but his assistant Virginia “Pepper” Potts is raising a young boy named Harry Potter who is supposedly her younger cousin from a distant relative but there are inconsistencies. . .”

As Coulson continued, Sitwell paid very close attention and gave no hint that he was smiling in triumph. He’d found Harry Potter. His superiors were going to be very, very pleased . . . both those in Hydra . . . and the ones like him . . . who still served the Dark Lord.

——————————-

It was New Year’s, and Tony, Pepper, Harry, Lupin and Yinsen had been invited to spend it at The Burrow. In the years to come, Pepper would look back on that first trip to The Burrow as the day she’d begun to understand the dual nature of Remus Lupin and more importantly, what Dumbledore had truly signed her up for when he’d given her Harry.

“There’s no wifi out here,” Tony complained from the front seat. “I can barely get a cell signal.”

“Most of Ottery Saint Catchpool is magical,” Lupin told him, eyes on the road. He was driving due largely to the fact that he had an EU Driver’s License. “You’ll get a wireless signal out here, maybe the telly, but that’s about it.”

“No, that’s just it,” Tony said, “I’m not getting a . . . this is one of those ‘word means differently in America than it does here’ things, isn’t it?”

“Pretty much, yes,” Lupin said with a grin. “I hate England,” Tony grumped, slumping in his seat. “I should buy the place and make you use correct words. Hell, I should buy Europe. Pepper, let’s buy Europe.”

“No,” Pepper said absently from her seat. She was working her way through a very thick stack of papers.

“Why not?” Tony replied, rising to the challenge.

“Because I still have nightmares about the last time.”

“Dare I ask?” Yinsen asked.

“The last time Tony tried to buy and on his own, he almost undermined the Finnish government,” Pepper explained, not taking her eyes from the papers in her lap. “While trying to buy a beach house. _In Greece_.”

“Hey, that minister was corrupt,” Tony justified, turning around in his seat to look at Pepper.

“Tony, Finland came within inches of declaring war against Canada. The State Department is still unhappy with us.”

“Ah, here we are,” Remus announced, bringing the van to a halt. “The Burrow.”

“Oh good,” Tony announced, opening his door. “Because I seriously need to . . . whoa.”

The house before them had begun as a small cottage or farmhouse, with an adjacent pond and a small pen with a couple of pigs. A shed was nearby, and further on were some trees. However, at some point in history, the house had undergone extensive . . . modification.

It now rose up seven or eight stories, boxy and ramshackle in defiance of physics and architecture, it seemed to droop in places, and bits of the walls seemed to have been patched over the years. Inside though, everything seemed to speak of home. The furniture was old and had been well used, but still scrubbed to a sparkling shine. A stair case rose up through the center, wrapped around a fireplace big enough for Tony to stand in. “It’s not much,” Ron admitted, “but it’s home.” “It’s brilliant,” Harry said.

“Yeah, Mop, it is,” Tony agreed.

———————————————————————

Molly Weasley had always been an excellent cook, but she’d outdone herself and they sat around the living room after dinner, talking. Impressively, the entire family had gathered, including Bill and Charlie, the two oldest Weasley children.

Remus, always conscious of his curse, sat slightly apart from the others, a tumbler of fine wizarding brandy in his hand. Tony had acquired the bottle the moment he’d been told about the invitation and had brought it as a thank you gift to their hosts.

Pepper had confided that Tony actually had impeccable manners . . . when he bothered to use them. Which was less often that either Pepper or Stane would have liked.

Still, if he half closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was at James’ house with James, Sirius, and Peter over Christmas, just the four of them, as it had always been.

As it should have been.

Sighing, he opened his eyes and found himself looking at Harry and Ron, who were seated with Charlie and having a rousing Quidditch discussion. Ron had his pet rat, Scabbers, on his shoulder. Despite being ten years old, Scabbers still seemed to be quite the spry little fellow as he chewed methodically on a bit of shortbread cracker, the black patches on his fur . . . It was though someone had slammed on the brakes, bringing time to a standstill and Remus paled, feeling as though his heart had become encased in ice as he actually took a good hard look at Scabbers and then somehow, he was on his feet, wand out, and the blue light of a reverse Hormorphus Charm sending Scabbers flying from Ron’s shoulder, following it with a binding spell.

He wanted so badly for that light to be green, so badly to let the wolf out, but a lifetime of control had come to his rescue. Answers. He need answers. More importantly, for Sirius’ sake, he needed _proof_. The ice around his heart filled him, and everything was deadly, frozen calm.

Ignoring the fact that everyone had their wands pointed at him, he instead walked over to the man who lay on the floor, struggling against the binds that held him down and gently poked his ratlike nose with the tip of his wand as he smiled the terrible smile of a predator.

_“Hello, Peter.”_

—————

**Author’s Note:**

“Mercado De Las Pulgas” more or less translates to “Market of the Fleas”, or, if you prefer, “Flea Market”.

As it turns out, Sybil Trelawny did, in fact, hear Harry’s yell in her mind, resulting in her racing to see Dumbledore to advise him that Hufflepuff fourth year Tony Bufferly was in terrible danger. However, she’d been bathing at the time and thus was clad only in a towel when she passed Severus Snape on her way to Dumbledore’s office. A subsequent request for the installation of a bath in Snape’s quarters was rejected.

If you’ve eaten the turkey legs at Disneyland, you know what Ron is on about.

For those wondering, Project Cool Name is the secret project Tony recruited Yinsen for in the previous chapter.

Ask yourself this regarding Cap 2. Did Peggy have dementia? Or was she hit with a very powerful and well constructed Memory Charm?

While the exact details of the agreement between Shield and the Wizengamont are secret, a persistent rumor among Level 8 Shield agents is that some fairly detailed threats were involved and that then Director Carter broke someone’s jaw. When Coulson asked, Fury told him that part of the agreement was that that rumor never be confirmed or denied. This has led to some fairly spectacular speculation, of which Agent Burns’ theory involving Howard Stark and time-traveling sharks is especially notable and well considered to be within the realm of possibility, thus justifying the extremely high percentage of Shield’s yearly budget going towards the Psychiatry Department.

Sitwell was a Ravenclaw, two years behind Lupin and the Marauders, if anyone’s wondering.

A Harry Potter wiki stated that the spell to force an Animagus to human form may be the Hormorphus Charm, mentioned by Gilderoy Lockhart in Book 2. For lack of anything better, I’m rolling with it.

Two Wizards is the single most popular fanfic I have ever written and I have been doing this since AOL was . . . well, I’ve been fan-ficing for very long time. Anyways, point is, every day I get notifications that people are liking this, favoriting it, following it, following me, and it’s awesome. I mean, I don’t know if there’s a link on TV tropes or I’ve been recc’d on a popular blog or what, but every time I get an email, I smile.

So, thank you. Thank you one and all.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Godric’s Hollow  
11 Years ago . . .

It hurt.

He hadn’t expected it to hurt. 

Peter Pettigrew pulled his hand away from his arm and glanced around to see if anyone was watching. No. James and Sirius were talking quietly, and Lily was cooing over Harry. 

Relieved, Peter folded his hands in his lap and did his best to look inoffensive and innocent. This part was easy; he’d had lots of practice. Were he given to self-reflection, he might have wondered if that was why his his Animagus form was a rat, a creature generally associated with deceit and betrayal. 

“All right there, Wormtail?” Sirius asked as he and James came over.

“Well, yes,” Peter admitted. “But Remus . . .”

“Even if he knew, he would still have that trip,” Sirius soothed. “And . . .” he exchanged a glance with James. “And it’s better this way. We can’t be too careful. Moony will understand.”

Peter rather doubted that, but he knew better than to argue with Sirius once the bigger man had made up his mind. “Are we ready?”

“Just about,” James replied. “Peter, I know you’re worried. but Betwys Beddau’s standing stones would keep out a demon, never mind Voldemort. This time tomorrow, you’ll be kicking back in the village pub and Pads here will be somewhere in Turkey letting Malfoy and his lot run themselves ragged trying to catch him.”

Sirius’ grin was positively vicious. “Turkey, Morocco, Egypt. Maybe Wakanda.”

James sighed. “Pads, Wakanda does not like outsiders.”

“Yeah, but think of the look on old Voldemort’s face if he found out his Death Eaters got blown to bits.”

“Not the point, Pads,” James’ voice was patient.

“Yeah yeah,” Sirius grumped.

“Mr. Pettigrew,” Dumbledore stood in the doorway of the house James and Lily were about to call home. “We are ready.”

Later, it was easy to slip out of the Order safe house and make his way to London where he knelt and told Voldemort exactly where to find James and Lily Potter.

Peter probably should have felt guilty, and he did, just a little bit, but it was only a bit, and the fact that his actions would lead to not only the death of his friends, but death, destruction and attempted genocide of the Muggle population barely crossed his mind. 

In the end, Peter Pettigrew would be alive, and that was all that mattered.

————————

The Burrow,  
The Present. 

 

Tony was the first to speak. “What . . . the hell?” he asked. 

“Bloody hell!” Arthur Weasley exclaimed. “Pettigrew!”

“Pettigrew?” Tony asked. “Isn’t he supposed to be dead? Like, blown up dead?”

“Oh yes,” Remus told them, “and I, for one, am very interested in how he put himself back together.”

Pettigrew’s chuckle was tinged with panic. “Ah, Remus, old friend, well, you see . . . ah . . .”

“Traitor,” Remus snarled, and the word reverberated with a growl.

“Remus,” Pepper tried. The sound of her voice pushed the wolf and the rage back down, resealing them under the icy calm and he took a deep breath. “Remus?” She asked again, because quite frankly, the look on his face terrified her.

“Ah . . .” Remus rubbed his face with one hand, eyes not leaving Peter’s prone form.

“Okay, time out,” Tony said, hands in the shape of a T. “Again, because I feel this is a valid question worth repeating; What. The. Hell.”

“That’s Peter Pettigrew!” Molly exclaimed. “But he’s dead! He’s was blown up by Sirius Black!”

“And it was Black who betrayed the Potters to You-Know-Who!” Bill Weasley added. “Right?”

“So we thought,” Remus replied and then he sank down onto a nearby chair, his icy calm suddenly gone, and his legs weak. “I was away on a research trip the night James and Lily were killed. Sirius was supposed to be the Secret Keeper, but they must have switched without telling me.”

“I did think it was a bad idea,” Peter pointed out.

“So when Harry’s parents died, Sirius went after Peter,” Pepper nodded. 

“Instead of Peter after Sirius,” Remus confirmed. “I told you they only found a bit of his finger.” He nodded towards Peter’s right hand. “Ring finger is missing its tip.”

“So he runs into Black, blows the street, bites off his finger and goes rat, disappearing into the rubble,” Tony finished. “Leaving Black alone and to all appearances, irrefutably guilty.”

“Wait, Pettigrew is an Animagus?” Arthur asked. “And he’s been in my house for ten years? Ten bloody years?”

“Say, Mum?” one of the twins asked, Remus thought it might have been Fred. “Didn’t Ginny have a nightmare a few years back? Said there was a strange man in her room?”

Remus had no idea if that was true, but it was worth the murderous glares suddenly directed at Peter, who nearly wet his pants in terror. “It would seem he is, and an unregistered one at that. Surprising, Transfiguration was his worse subject at Hogwarts.” 

“Mum, Dad, Mr. Lupin.” Bill Weasley had pulled up Peter’s sleeve. “Look.” There, although faded, was the Dark Mark.

“So let me get this straight,” Tony said. “Pettigrew, not Black, was the Secret Keeper.”

“Yes,” Remus confirmed.

“Except that Pettigrew is actually a bad guy.”

“Yes.”

“And Black is a good guy.”

“Yes.”

“And so the bad guy is lying here, while the good guy is in prison for a crime he didn’t do.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No one lasts very long in Azkaban, Mr, Stark, the Dementors see to that. Sirius may be dead, but at least his name can be cleared.” Remus sighed. “He deserves that much.” He flicked his wand and Peter rose from the ground, floating in mid-air. “Molly, Arthur, can I use your Floo?”

——————————————

Azkaban killed. 

It killed slowly, insidiously. Like some sort of relentless force, it ate away at you until there was nothing left but a shell that would then die and be summarily disposed of. It was, in Remus’ mind, possibly the worst way to go.

“Can’t we talk about this?” Peter pleaded, feet attempting to halt his forward progress. Unfortunately, he was floating, which only resulted in his feet flailing in mid-air.

Were it not for the location, Remus might have found the sight amusing, but Azkaban was no laughing matter and even with a Patronus, he could still feel the chill of the Dementors, watching, waiting. 

“There’s really not much you can say, Pettigrew.” Kingsley Shacklebolt was a tall imposing black man with a quick smile and ready wit. “Framing a man for one murder, much less thirteen, is bad enough, but you also hurt your own mother by letting her think you were dead.” He shook his head. “That’s not how a man treats his mother.”

“It was necessary,” Peter said matter of factly.

“Like hell it was,” Remus snarled.

“Lupin!” Shacklebolt snapped. They came to an empty cell and Shacklebolt unlocked it with a twist of an old metal key. “The man’s in Azkaban. Whatever you could do to him, this is much worse.”

Across the hall, one of the other prisoners had shuffled up to the bars and was staring at them with an intense gaze. Remus did his best to ignore the madman and kept his eyes on Pettigrew. His Animagus abilities had been suppressed, but it was obvious that everyone had severely underestimated Peter and Remus did not want to make the same mistake twice. 

“Mmmmmm-m-m-m-m-moooooooooo . . .” Behind them, the prisoner was trying to speak and something about the man’s voice made Remus turn. “M-m-m-mooooo . . .” the man rasped. He was tall, Remus noted. thick black hair dirty and matted, same with the beard, his clothes were ragged and through the tears, Remus could see lines and shapes created by dirt being rubbed into the skin. “M-m-m-m-moon,” the man told him.

“Something wrong?” Shacklebolt asked, shutting the door to Peter’s cell and locking it. “Don’t get to close there, Lupin. Poor bastard’s mad enough as it is. No telling what he’ll do.”

“M-m-m-moon!” The man exclaimed and then looked past him to the cell before letting out an inarticulate scream of rage and lunging at the bars as though he could reach across the space between them and strangle Peter. “R-r-r-r-r-r-arrrrrgggggggggh!”

Remus was about to turn away when he caught sight of the man’s left arm and raised his wand. “Lumos.” Here, the skin was much cleaner, with four shapes patiently and painstakingly drawn; A perfect circle right below the elbow, then after that, a stag, a dog, and then a rat, which had been furiously scratched at, the skin almost mutilated. 

“Lupin?” Shacklebolt asked over the man’s screams.

“I’m . . . I’m not sure,” Lupin admitted. “Lumos Maximus.” The light flared and the man flinched away in pain, eyes unused to the bright light. “Lumos,” he said, the light dimming back to it’s usual brightness and then he crouched at the bars. “Hey,” he said, trying to keep his voice friendly. The man crawled back to the bars, staring at him and Remus raised his wand, still ready to jerk it out of the way.

“Moon,” the man said and nodded, proud that he could get that word out, and then his hand shot through the bars, gripping Remus’ shoulder with surprising strength. Familiar strength. “Moon,” the man said, his eyes burning into Remus’.

Eyes Remus knew. More importantly, those eyes were sane.

“Lupin?” Shacklebolt asked.

“Can you release this man?”

“What?”

“Yes or no.”

“Well yes, but Merlin’s beard, why?”

Remus smiled, the first truly happy, genuine smile he’d had in ten years. “Because this is Sirius Black.”

—————————————————

Dumbledore met them in the main courtyard of Hogwarts. Remus had felt that Dumbledore would know what to do and Shacklebolt had agreed far too quickly. By now, Remus was almost positive that Shacklebolt was like Remus and so many others, bound to the old man by loyalty or favors owed. Or both. 

“Ah, Mr. Black.” Dumbledore said as though Sirius had simply dropped by for tea.

“I’m sorry to barge in, Professor,” Remus began but Dumbledore merely raised his hand.

“It is of no matter, Remus,” Dumbledore said. “What is important is that Mr. Black is here, although, perhaps a quick trip to Madam Pomfrey is in order?”

“Ha . . .” Sirius tried. “H-h-h-h.”

“Mr. Potter is safe,” Dumbledore replied, “I promise you that.” Sirius let out a growl and Dumbledore sighed. “Poor choice of words, I suppose, all things considered.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Mr. Black . . . Sirius . . . I ask that you let Madam Pomfrey have a look at you, eat a sensible meal, and get some rest. In the morning, we will have a very long, and dare I say, very overdue conversation, hm?”

“Hem hem.” Coming towards them from the gate was a woman flanked by two large men in black robes and something about her scared Remus to death. She radiated wrongness, danger. She was other. For the first time in his life, Remus actually considered letting the wolf out. 

Dumbledore, who had a poker face a stone statue would envy merely looked slightly puzzled. “Ah, can I help you . . . “

“Delores Umbridge, Ministry of Magic. This is Blue and Waters from the Department of Mysteries. We’re here for Sirius Black.”

“Black is a free man,” Shacklebolt pointed out. “I have the writ from Crouch’s office clearing him of the charge.”

“Oh, yes,” Umbridge nodded. “Yes, of course. But there is still the matter of the thirteen Muggles who were also killed. And, Mr. Blue and Mr. Waters would very much like to know how Mr. Black survived ten years in Azkaban.” A strange light seemed to appear in her eyes. “Among other questions.”

Fear curled around Remus’ gut. Somehow, he knew. Knew that this had nothing to do with the Muggles and everything about making Sirius disappear, and worse, punish him for daring to not only be alive, but innocent. 

“N-n-n-no,” Sirius said, backing away, “No.” 

Umbridge had a wide mouth and it stretched even wider as she smiled. “Come now, Mr. Black. You have my personal guarantee and that of Minister Fudge that you will be perfectly fine.”

Remus shot a pleading look at Dumbledore but then flinched as there was a loud bang and a wall of smoke. 

“Disparios,” Dumbledore said and the smoke dissipated, Sirius was gone. 

“He apparated!” Umbridge yelled.

“You cannot apparate at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, striding over to where Sirius had been standing. “Ah!” He bent down and picked up something from the grass. “A smoke bomb, no doubt intended to go off when someone passes by. Although . . .” He poked at it with his wand, which was long, rigid, and ornately carved. Once, Remus had asked Dumbledore where his wand had come from. Dumbledore had merely smiled and told him that it was a great wand and that he was rather fond of it. “Yes, here, the trigger is misaligned, a short in the circuit, if you will. Some prankster’s first effort, I should think.”

Umbridge glared at him and then waved Blue and Waters to search the grounds, marching after them, her spine rigid under her jacket.

“If you’ll excuse me, Professor,” Shacklebolt said then, “I’ll be needed back at the Ministry.” Dumbledore nodded and Shacklebolt hurried off. 

“Remus, would you like some tea?” Dumbledore asked, and Remus heard the command under the polite offer.

“Ah, yes, Professor, I would love some.” 

—————————————————

By the time Remus returned to the Burrow, his head was swimming and the bag he carried was filled with notes and and books he not only needed to read, but he should probably let Jarvis have a look at as well. The computer could sort data and process patterns and new information faster than a team of academics. Then there was what Dumbledore had told him personally, and if even half of what the old man suspected was true, Remus was scared stiff. 

Sirius turning up hadn’t helped either, and that had been when Dumbledore had handed Remus the bag and sent him on his way. Raised voices had followed him out, and Remus hoped they didn’t come to blows. Well, mostly hoped. 

A part of him he didn’t like to think about hoped they killed each other and his hand closed tightly around the bag handles as he fought the sudden fury at Sirius that reared up within him, teeth bared and . . . he squeezed his eyes shut and willed the wolf back into its kennel. With the monster once again secured, he stepped around the corner and stopped.

There was a bonfire in the backyard.

As Remus watched, Tony, Bill, and Charlie, followed by Harry and Ron, carried a bed out of the house and threw it on the bonfire while Molly spoke with a blond haired man as Ginny and a girl who could only be the blond man’s daughter weaved flower chains. 

“Remus! “Pepper exclaimed, coming up to him and handing him a glass. He could smell that it was his favorite tea. ”Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Remus replied and set the bag down. “Should I ask?”

“Ron couldn’t sleep,” Pepper said simply. “I guess he started thinking about how Scabbers fooled everyone and slept in his bed and just . . . everything. So, Tony suggested setting the bed on fire.” In the yard, sparks shot into the air as the fire hit a knot in the wood. Harry and Ron cheered.

“I see.”

Pepper nodded. and gave him a wry smile. “Everyone else is helping Ron and the twins switch rooms. To be honest, I don’t think anybody is going to be sleeping tonight.” She sipped from her glass. “How did it go?”

Tersely, Remus recounted finding Sirius alive, the rather lengthy argument in the offices of the MLE, and ended with the confrontation at Hogwarts as Arthur wandered over to join them.

“Umbridge?” Arthur’s face screwed up as though he’d eaten a fly. “Short woman? Face like a toad?” Remus nodded and the older man shuddered. “Bloody hell.”

“Trouble?” Pepper asked.

Arthur took a long drink from the mug in his hand. “Came out wrong, that one. Personal Undersecretary to Fudge, but she’s really his hatchet man.” 

“The Minister of Magic,” Remus explained to Pepper. “Basically, the Prime Minister.”

“On top of that, she’s a bloody racist. Funny because she’s a half muggle, not that you bring that up where she can hear you, mind.” Arthur wagged a cautionary finger at them, swaying slightly on his feet, and Remus remembered the other man was a lightweight. 

“We won’t, Arthur,” Pepper promised as she switched his and Remus’ drinks with the deftness of a stage magician. She gave Remus an apologetic smile as she began to herd Arthur towards the house. 

Bending down, Remus picked up his bag. They would be going home tomorrow, and the full moon would be in a week. Reading the books and notes would give him something to do in the daytime. 

Well, that and worrying.

——————————————

Pepper finished typing the email and hit send. That was the last one and she was glad for it. Interest in StarkCom was beginning to stir and the major news sites were taking notice, which was good, since the release for StarkCom’s phone and tablet were still months away. 

Unfortunately, the major news sites were taking notice and there were still plenty of people who took issue with Tony’s decision to stop making weapons simply because he’d decided to stop making weapons. 

“And meanwhile, Tony hides in the basement with Yinsen and Remus,” she said out loud. “Or he would if Remus wasn’t out sick. Ugh.”

“Ah, Ms Potts,” Jarvis spoke up. “About Mr. Lupin.”

“Hm?” Pepper asked, calling up the stock reports.

“I have been considering ways to bring this up tactfully, but as you have mentioned it first, as it were . . .”

“Jarvis, what is it?”

“As you have said, Mr. Lupin is out sick due to a medical condition he has never discussed with anyone here.”

“Nor should he if he doesn’t want to, Jarvis. He has a right to privacy.”

“Nor do I wish to infringe upon that, but he has been employed with S.I. since August and a pattern has emerged.” 

That got Pepper’s attention. Regular use of sick days suggested a myriad of things, most of them an abuse of the system. “A pattern?” Absently, she noticed Tony walking by and then stopping to listen.

“A schedule might be a more apt term. Each of Mr, Lupin’s sick periods has occurred once a month and always for five days. Furthermore, my inventory sub-routine has noted that Mr. Lupin’s work meals the week previous to his sick periods always include a large amount of beef as opposed to his usual preferences for a small amount of fish or chicken. And finally, Ms. Potts, his sick periods are always during the full moon.”

“Full moon? But why would . . . oh.”

———————————

Not so bad this time . . .

Remus struggled towards consciousness, trying to discern why waking up felt different, why light, why cool, why soft?

Soft?

Remus forced his eyes open. Had someone heard him? Were there people in his house? Was he out?

“Hey hey hey!” Pepper’s voice soothed. “It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re at home. You’re fine.”

Remus turned his head. Pepper knelt next to him, placing a damp washcloth on his forehead. She gave him a smile. “You’re fine, you’re home, you’re on your sofa. We found you in your closet.”

“You’re gonna need to replace that door,” Stark’s head popped into his field of vision. “There is a massive, and I mean massive crack in the wood. Hell, screw that, I’ll make you a new one. Something with steel mesh.” He pulled out his phone. “Jarvis, I need carpentry gear, I’m making a door.”

It was too much and Remus passed out again. 

When he awoke again, Remus found himself in a bed in a dim room. He could feel he was wearing bandages and a soft linen gown Looking at his hands, he saw that he had a vitals monitor on one finger. 

“What?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Lupin,” Jarvis said. “You are in Mr. Stark’s house and it is four twenty-eight in the afternoon. You have been asleep for some ten hours.”

The door opened and Pepper entered, carrying a tray. She was smiling, but there was an edge of nervousness. 

‘Well of course, she’s nervous,’ Remus thought. ‘She’s in a room with a monster’.’

“Here,” Pepper said, setting the tray on his lap. “Auntie Martha’s special soup for the severely ill.”

Remus looked down at the soup. It smelled heavenly, but . . . “You know,” he croaked out. 

Pepper sighed and nodded. “Jarvis figured it out.” She tried for a smile. “Tony’s excited. I think he’s going to start calling you ‘Lon Chaney’, though. Sorry.”

“He’s an idiot,” Remus ground out. He was about to be fired anyway so civility went out the window. “You all are.” Pepper blinked in surprise and Remus pressed on. “I appreciate the attempt at civility, Ms. Potts, but I have little use for false charity and I’ll take my leave now.”

It was then that Pepper’s face underwent a curious transformation, going from surprise and kindness to an expression that matched Minerva McGonagall for it’s sternness and iron determination. “You’re staying put.”

“I’m a werewolf,” Remus shot back. “You think this is the first time this has happened?”

“No, and it’s clouding your judgement.” Remus blinked and Pepper’s expression softened. “Remus, we’ve read enough in all those books you’ve bought to know how you’ve been treated. I don’t pretend I can fully understand, but you should know by now neither Tony or I are going to hold something you can’t control against you.”

“I’m a danger.”

“You have a medical condition,” Pepper corrected. “Medical conditions can be treated, worked around.”

“It’s a curse. I’m a monster.”

“Says who?”

“Says . . .” Remus trailed off, blinking at her. When you got right down to it, everyone who had ever told him that were repeating what they had been told by people who had been repeating what they had been told all the way back to Merlin knew when.

“Yes?” Pepper asked. 

“I’m a bloody idiot,” Remus sighed, managing a strangled laugh and then sobered. “It’s not wholly wrong, though.”

“Remus . . .”

Remus shook his head. “No, Pepper, even if it is indeed a medical condition, I’m still at the mercy of it. My will, everything that is me, is subsumed once I’m changed. At best, it’s a psychosis, but I’m still dangerous when it’s the full moon. No words will change that.”

Pepper smiled. “So it’s an obstacle, then.” 

“Call it whatever you want, Pepper, but—“

“Remus,” Pepper patted Remus’ wrist. “Tony wants to help, and when Tony sets his mind on something, little things like obstacles get stepped on.”

For the first time in years, Remus Lupin felt a tiny surge of hope. 

———————————

The box had been a gift from Remus for christmas, a build your own orrery that could be shrunk down to fit in your pocket. Having completed his homework for the moment, Harry had elected to spend a rainy Sunday morning tinkering with the movement gears over breakfast. Tony always told him that no matter what the manufacturer said, you could always get at least ten percent more out of something. Aunt Pepper said that this was why Tony was going to someday burn his house down, but if Seamus could make stuff blow up just by trying to do charms and only get some soot on his face and his hair standing on end, Harry didn’t see how the orrery catching on fire would be any different.

Picking up one of the support pegs, Harry looked at the instructions to verify it’s location, and then began to carefully install it. Once it was in, he began adjusting the gears.

“You’re going to overclock it,” someone said. “I’ve seen those things fly apart because the gears weren’t set right.”

Harry didn’t look up, but pointed at the far side of the device. “I’m going to put a flywheel there.”

“An’ that’ll work?” The other person had a mild Scottish brogue. 

Harry shrugged. “I’ll find out when I turn it on.” 

The person didn’t respond, but Harry didn’t notice. It wasn’t until all the pegs were in that Harry looked up to see someone sitting across from him. It took Harry a moment to realize that the person was a girl, with long black hair and fascinatingly brown eyes. 

She was very pretty.

She was also the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang. 

Whom Harry was supposed to face in the next Quidditch match. 

. . . and at the other end of the Gryffindor table, Oliver Wood was glaring at them. 

——————————————

Peter huddled in the corner of his cell, knees pulled up to his chest. The Dementors were taking their time, slowly sniping off bits of him the way a tailor might cut the odd errant thread. 

Most lasted days at most in Azkaban, Peter had lasted a week, mostly by keeping his thoughts and emotions in check and locked down, and partly because the MLE had rounded up a gang of Dark Object smugglers and the Dementors were distracted. 

It was about then that a masked man dressed entirely in white came up through the floor, grabbed him by the shirt, slapped some sort of mask on his face and pulled him down. 

Saved! 

———————————————

He was not saved. 

After being pulled through the very earth, Peter had kept his eyes closed because phasing your way through solid rock was so weird, it hurt his brain, they had finally emerged somewhere on the coast, where the man in white had unceremoniously dropped him. 

“Got your package, Sitwell,” the man had said in a voice that sounded strangely filtered. He pulled the mask from Peter’s face.

“Thank you, Ghost,” replied a dark skinned bald man wearing a suit and horn-rimmed glasses. He took a thick envelope from his pocket handed it over. “Your fee, and a small bonus should I need you again.”

“For Shield, the MLE, Hydra or the Death Eaters?” Ghost asked. 

Sitwell’s eyes narrowed. “You are remarkably well-informed.”

“Yeah, I am.” Ghost waved the envelope. “Pleasure doin’ business.” With that, Ghost sank back into the ground again and was gone.

Peter got to his feet. “Thank you,” he said. 

“Oh, you’re welcome, you’re welcome.” Sitwell pulled on a pair of gloves and removed a wand from the inside pocket of his jacket. “This is yours, of course. You’re going to need it.” He waved the wand and Peter felt the bindings on his magic and his animagus powers being lifted.

“Need it for what?” Peter asked. He wasn’t stupid, Sitwell wouldn’t have hired Ghost to break him out of Azkaban unless he needed something and every survival instinct Peter had was screaming warnings. He took his wand from Sitwell, noting the tracking charm that had been placed on it. It also hadn’t escaped his notice that the gloves and the use of Peter’s own wand to lift the bindings meant that there would be no way to prove that Sitwell had been involved in Peter’s escape. Clever. 

“For the Master,” Sitwell told him. 

Something in the other man’s voice made Peter’s instincts scream louder. “The Dark Lord lives?” He asked, mentally calculating escape routes and plans. Not from Voldemort, of course, never from Voldemort. But Sitwell was another matter.

“Of course He does!” Sitwell snapped. “As if a mere child, one born to a traitor and a mudblood could defeat Him. No.” Sitwell shook his head. “No, the traitor Potter did something, cheated somehow, but I have faith, Peter.” He chuckled and shook his hand, one finger raised as though admonishing someone. “Oh, I have faith. As do you.”

“Oh! Oh yes.” Peter let out a chuckle of his own, even managing to make it sound convincing. “Yes, I do.” 

He didn’t. 

—————————  
Author’s Notes: 

Betwys Beddau is the village where Remus and Sirius take Harry in the fic Laocoon’s Children to keep him safe in lieu of the Dursley’s blood protection. Even if slash isn’t your thing, I highly recommend it simply due to the quality of effort and research put into it.

In the history of the magical world. Wakandan wizards and witches are of a peculiar note, primarily for the fact that they do not seem to use wands to perform spells, but instead wear amulets made from a unknown metal which, if rumor is to be believed, amplifies their powers. They are also the only nation on earth not to have signed the Statute of Secrecy and have refused to recognize the authority of the Wizengamot or the United Magical Council of Africa. Even today, their borders are tightly controlled and any incursions, intentional or otherwise, are mercilessly dealt with, resulting in strained relations with both their neighbors and the rest of the world. 

Trivia: Remus’ neighborhood was originally known as Arroyo Seco, constructed in the early 90’s and later burned down by members of the LAPD during the arrest of the developer, Jack Travis, a former LAPD officer turned crime boss. The project was later acquired and finished by Roxxon International, however, interest was lukewarm and Roxxon earned no profit on it, leaving Arroyo Seco to its own devices, with most of the houses being rented out. No, this probably isn’t a Lethal Weapon crossover, just a nod to LW3, one of my favorite movies. 

Yup, Harry/Cho. You’re welcome. 

Now then . . . where do we go from here? Heh heh heh . . .


End file.
